


Aurora Australis

by Jocelyn



Series: Generation K [5]
Category: Pacific Rim, Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Adorable Max, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Chuck Needs a Hug, Drift Bond, Drift Compatibility, Drift Side Effects, Dysfunctional Family, Explicit Language, FEELS DAMMIT!, Family Feels, Gen, Ghost Drifting, Hansen Family Feels, Herc Needs a Hug Too, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jaeger Academy, Jaeger Pilots, Jaegers (Pacific Rim), Kaiju (Pacific Rim), Kaiju War, Mental Health Issues, Military, Nobody is a saint, Pre-Canon, Ranger Feels, The Drift (Pacific Rim), Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-03-03 18:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 48
Words: 236,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2860550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jocelyn/pseuds/Jocelyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Hansens' story, from Lucky Seven and the Mark-1 glory days to Striker Eureka and the decline and fall of the Jaeger Program.  Now complete as Chuck and Herc arrive in Hong Kong to join the last remaining pilots and prepare for the Jaeger Program's last stand, and Chuck learns just who will be joining in Operation Pitfall!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

**Aurora Australis**

**Chapter One: The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea**

_September 2, 2014…  
_ _Sydney, Australia…_

There were many dramatic stories about Scissure. Hercules Hansen didn't like hearing a single damned one of them. But there was no escaping the fact that his family's sensational tale was bandied about in the press, in the pubs, and within the ranks of the armed forces who struggled to rally against the invaders.

Everyone talked about Hercules Hansen, one of the pilots who went rogue in the final hour and the desperate choice he had to make, to try to save someone in his family. Hercules Hansen, who single-handedly stole a helicopter to save his child and had to leave his wife to die.

Herc never talked about it, except to correct the tactless asses who dared to bring it up in his hearing: "I wasn't alone. Scott was with me. Without him, we'd never have made it."

That was his story, and he stuck to it for five years. For some reason, people didn't think it was as compelling a tale if Herc hadn't been alone. Hercules Hansen's hooligan younger brother being the one who'd helped him accomplish that heart-wrenching save didn't seem as romantic in the eyes of the media – and for years, even after they became Australia's first home-grown Jaeger pilots, Herc and Scott both knew it. The idea that Scott Hansen would have a side that cared more about family than chasing women and gambling on races didn't fit the role that the media (and their comrades) wanted him to play.

Herc knew different. At least, for five years, he thought he did.

To Scott's credit, however out-of-hand his tastes in recreation, he doted on his nephew and had always dropped whatever he was doing to help out when Herc and his family needed it. He could turn his attention from his gambling and his girls when the chips were down.

And the chips had never been further down than that day in Sydney.

When the countdown to the second bomb began for downtown, Scott was the one who punched out the second MP who'd tried to stop Herc from taking that Bell Kiowa. He dove into the co-pilot's seat. "GO!" He was watching the time as Herc pushed the old chopper to its limits. "Fuck. _Fuck!_ There's not enough time - Jesus, Herc, we've got one bloody shot, and if we're not out of range, we're all dead!"

He didn't tell Herc what choice to make, and Herc didn't ask him.

He knew without Herc having to say where they were going when they veered towards the smaller buildings outside the financial center. He just checked their fuel reserves and weight. "Time?" Herc yelled as they descended onto ball field.

"Nineteen minutes. Keep the blades going. I'll get him." The door was open before they touched down, and Scott ran. His feet barely touched the ground.

There were school buses and a jammed mass of cars and minivans on the roads surrounding the school buildings. Nothing on the ground was moving. The air was an endless stream of desperate honks and screams of terror and desperation and the wail of sirens. There were other choppers in the area; Herc kept an eye on their rotors and their paths as some of them made for the school's playground to land. Some people ran towards them, pleading, waving wallets, infants and children in their arms, but Herc was blind to everyone else once he saw Scott again.

His brother was tearing back from the mob of people near the buses, still sprinting full-tilt with a wild-eyed, shouting bundle in his arms.

 _Chuck... Chuck._ Herc's son looked more bewildered than scared, gasping something at his uncle, arms around Scott's neck. _My son..._

Scott was yelling at the people who were trailing after him, warning them off. " - we can't take more! That one takes eleven!" he roared, pointing at one of the bigger transports further down the field.

By some miracle, it wasn't a fight to get Scott and Chuck back in with Herc past any desperate crowds. People were still too confused to really battle for a seat yet. Scott hauled himself and Chuck on board and yanked the door closed, not bothering to buckle them in. "GO!"

"Dad?" Chuck croaked.

"Hang on tight, son," Herc warned, and relied on Scott to keep himself or Chuck from slamming into the windshield as he roared into the air, dodging trees, power lines, and other helicopters as if it were a combat mission.

Scott even managed to rein in the worst profanity as they were jolted against the bulkheads. He braced their young charge in a bear hug. "Shh, shh, you're all right now, Boyo." But his voice went grim and hard when he looked at the clock. "Eleven minutes."

Still in shock, Chuck peered over Scott's shoulder, eyes huge as he looked at his father. "Are we gonna get Mum now?"

 _Oh, god._ Herc's hand hovered over the throttle as he turned them inland. Eleven minutes. There was already a massive plume of smoke rising above the city center... all the movement he could see was to the north side. That bloody motherfucker from hell had already made a few passes through downtown, and Herc couldn't even tell where it was at the moment. Scott had a radio to his ear with one hand, still bracing Chuck with the other. "Location?"

"Middle Harbor. Moving north, but..." Scott glowered out the window. "They're still saying ten minutes to detonation."

 _God fucking damn it._ He opened the throttle and turned them southeast. As far as they could get. Away from Sydney. Away from that indestructible, godforsaken thing.

Away from his wife, away from the mother of his child. "Dad... what about Mum?" Chuck repeated.

"No time," he mumbled, keeping his eyes forward. Had to watch the radar, keep an eye out for crossing traffic. It was chaos out there. "There's a bomb coming. There's no time; we can't find her."

_Forgive me, Angela._

Who was he kidding? Of course, she'd forgive him. She'd scoff and say there was nothing to forgive. Herc was doing precisely what she'd ask - what she'd demand. Angie would be screaming her head off if she thought he was even considering doing anything else. Saving their boy, getting her baby the hell away from this nightmare. She'd tell him to do precisely this.

He dared a quick look at his boy, with Angela's strawberry blond hair and a complexion lighter than Herc's ruddy color. Cheeks streaked with tears he didn't seem to realize he was shedding, staring at his dad in disbelief at what they were doing. Leaving Sydney behind. Leaving his mum to her fate.

How did you explain to an eleven-year-old that the movie monster ripping apart his home had probably already crushed his mother to death - if she was lucky - and even if it hadn't, they were all going to get incinerated if they weren't at least ten miles out in ten more minutes. Half the buildings in the city center were already down. Hell, that stinking thing had gone right over the school itself, judging by the destruction trail Herc had seen from above as he approached. Only its squat size among the larger buildings had saved it from being stepped on.

_She's probably already dead. And even if she weren't, even if I had her on the phone, she'd be telling me to step on the gas._

Five minutes later, Scott was wrangling with the seat straps to get himself and Chuck locked in, and forcing Chuck to hide his face in his chest under his jacket. "Whatever you do, don't look around," he admonished the boy. "Herc. HERC! Glasses. You won't do us any good flash-blind."

Herc growled bitterly at him but let his brother shove the shades over his nose. Eyes squeezed shut, arms wrapped around Chuck with the radio propped against his ear, Scott counted. "Four... three... two... one..."

Herc took the measure of their nearest airspace and shut his eyes for the count of a few more seconds, just to be safe. If there were tears that escaped when he opened them again, well, the shades hid that too.

Only a little turbulence got them at that altitude. They were flying into a head wind. So that would spare them the fallout, blowing the worst of it out to sea. Scott fumbled at the radio for a few minutes as they went, aimless now, just putting extra distance between themselves and what was behind them.

Finally, Herc's brother mumbled, "Richmond Air Base is in the clear. They're calling all units and personnel who can hear to regroup there."

"Right." Sixty kilometers west of Sydney, RAAF Base Richmond would safe even if the nuke had been an ICBM with a couple of megatons. Herc had no idea how large the bomb had been, and didn't especially want to know. It didn't matter. Anyone still downtown when it had hit was almost certainly dead or dying.

Herc turned them in a long arc towards the northwest of Sydney, and Scott's breath caught along with his own when they saw the mushroom cloud. In Scott's arms, Chuck tried to squirm around, and Herc muttered, "No."

Scott tightened his grip, his chin on top of Chuck's head. "Stay where you are, Chucky. Just like I said; keep your face covered." They were well past the blast or the flash, but they both knew that wasn't what they to keep from Chuck now. Herc's brother muttered wearily, "It'll get around soon. Pictures'll be everywhere."

"I know," Herc replied. Chuck would see it, probably within a few days, this sight of his mother's death. "Not here. Not like this."

_**To be continued...** _


	2. Priorities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Australia's military families struggle to move on after Scissure. The PPDC liaison wants to recruit Herc and Scott to pilot a new line of walking weapons against the kaiju. But if they both go, where will that leave 11-year-old Chuck?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**A/N** _ _: Wow, thank you all so much for the feedback on this story! Please keep it coming! This chapter introduces several original characters, listed at the end._

**Chapter Two: Priorities**

_Richmond Air Base, Australia…_

Before Scissure, Herc and Scott Hansen would have laughed off the idea of piloting a machine that required them to see into each other's minds.

After Scissure... well, everything was different everywhere. Herc and Scott certainly weren't the only ones whose relationship changed, even changed for the better.

They went from a responsible, dutiful (neglectful) soldier and a ne'er-do-well, perpetually-broke womanizer who really only tolerated each other for blood's sake to... a family, after they staggered out of a ratty old Bell Kiowa onto RAAF Base Richmond with a traumatized eleven-year-old between them. Widower, motherless boy, and stunned uncle wandered into the base as shell-shocked MPs and medics took names, checked for injuries, and found them places to sleep and rations to eat.

Chuck was among a surprisingly-large crowd of children carried to the base in the arms of Australia's servicemen and women. Many managed that by flagrantly violating regulations in that last hour. The big cargo chopper that Scott had pointed the other parents to hadn't made it out of town. Maybe they hadn't made it off the ground as the panic set in. But a heavy transport helicopter had managed to get out of Killarney Heights - nearly ground zero - with two dozen kids from a primary school. Whether any of those kids weren't now orphaned remained to be seen, but still, it was a spectacular save.

At least there were enough caretakers on the base housing to look after the kids. Once Herc was satisfied that he knew where Chuck would be looked after, he and Scott went to work. The RAAF hadn't had much use for Scott once he washed out of officer training, but they would take any pair of hands now.

For those first three months after most of Sydney was obliterated, its survivors muddled along and wondered how long it would be before the next attack. And where the next kaiju would go.

In December, humanity finally had abit of good news. A fleet of submarines and deep-sea sonar vessels had deployed in concentric circles around the Breach, and spotted the bastard as he made his way towards South America. Their instruments managed to track him, with the crews occasionally having to abandon their ships if they got too close and were spotted. But they bought the newly-formed Pan Pacific Defense Corps enough time to organize a response, and three underwater nuclear launches managed to kill Verocitor while he was well off the Chilean coast.

But that had taken no less than _three_ nuclear missiles. How many more of these things could humanity afford to launch against the kaiju… and on the flip side, would they ever have a weapon that could actually kill the bastards that didn't amount to sacrificing everyone in the blast zone?

* * *

When word got around that the PPDC was seeking test pilots for this new line of walking weapons in Alaska, Herc and Scott had exchanged a look. It sounded pretty outlandish, but then again... look at what they were up against.

But Herc had his doubts when Air Vice Marshall Ketteridge asked him to come to Kodiak Island as a potential test pilot. Scott had his back on the reason: "What happens to his kid if he gets killed in testing? Boy's already lost his mother."

The news that the first test pilot had died before the system worked out didn't really make Herc feel likely to change his mind... until spring 2015, and Ketteridge approached him again. "There's another issue, Hansen. A new one. Not just anyone can pilot these mechs. They have to have _two_ pilots."

"Sounds a bit more complicated than a Hornet," Scott pointed out. Then he stared at Ketteridge. "What the hell are you looking at me for; I washed out of flight school!"

"I've heard," the Air Vice Marshall said wryly. "I wasn't talking about flying skills. These _Jaegers_ are piloted by mind control."

"With respect, Vice Marshall, what the hell have you been smoking?" asked Scott. Herc elbowed his brother irritably. Adding "with respect" didn't make it respectful.

Ketteridge just shook his head. "I know it sounds ridiculous, men. I had to have the brainiacs explain it to me a dozen times before I halfway believed them. But I was there for the second test a week ago, and the prototype does look like it can fight. There are seven more being built, to be battle-ready by the end of the year. Australia's footing the bill for at least one, maybe two."

"So why us?" Herc asked.

"We've got no shortage of volunteers; that's not the problem anymore. Plenty of people from plenty of countries want a crack at these kaiju bastards. Smart men, strong men, we've got. But this... _neural bridge_ that lets the pilots control the mech, it needs compatibility. You can just plug two random blokes into it and have it work. They've been trying; most people aren't compatible with each other."

Herc frowned to himself. "Some sort of _mental_ compatibility?"

"Right. The current test pilot matched up with the girl who invented the bloody thing; they're a couple. He's US Army, and used to fly with another pilot who's got a twin brother. They called the brother in, the twins are compatible, so they're training up. And China's got a brother and sister who just passed the testing." Ketteridge flourished his hands. "Hence me talking to you. We need matched pairs."

"What about my kid?" Herc asked.

The way Ketteridge shrugged got his hackles up, and Scott's too. "Find him a school - "

Both Hansens started talking at once. "Just one bloody minute - "

"Really, Vice Marshall? You come to me with this and tell me to pack my boy off out of the way - "

" - That's NOT what I said - "

" - Try again, then," Herc snarled. "My son's not a bloody afterthought! Either he goes with me or Command better come up with one hell of a good provision for him, because if he's _not_ provided for, show's over! Command wrote off my _wife_ to kill that fucking scum in Sydney; I'm not giving up my boy for the cause too!"

Ketteridge scowled. "And Command _didn't_ charge you with desertion or theft for your actions, Hansen."

It was the wrong card to play. Herc had to grab Scott's arm to hold him back, but didn't hesitate to get into the Air Vice Marshall's face himself. "No, because you know damn well that if you charged me, you'd be charging more than half the remaining personnel on this base with taking that one hour you gave us to save _somebody_ in our families. And all I've got to do is pass the word along that you're still trying to throw what's left of our children to the wolves, and we'll see how much your command is worth."

_You stand there sneering in your starched suit and talk about duty and honor and sacrifice, and you_ still _want me to leave my kid for dead! What the hell is the point of all this?_

The three men stood, with Herc and Ketteridge almost toe-to-toe, but it was the Air Vice Marshall who blinked. "The Jaeger base hasn't got housing for families yet. They're working on it, but it'll be months. And we need Rangers to start now if those ships are going to be ready to deploy. The last attack was four months ago."

"How long's this training? And what happens after?" asked Scott. "Do we stay in Alaska or come back here? You said one of these robots is for Australia."

Breathing a little easier, Ketteridge beckoned them into his office and pulled up some schematics on the desktop. "We're building a launch facility in Sydney - outside the exclusion zone. Even before that, we'll have one of those machines here on the continent for our defense. If I have my way, you'll be back here as soon as that ship's up and running, maybe as little as six months." He sighed, showing a little of the same strain that Herc knew everyone in the trenches had been feeling since Scissure. "You're not the only one who lost family in Sydney, Hansen, and you're not the only one trying to hang on to whoever's left. I'll sign off on your son staying here in family housing until you're back, if you'll agree to go."

Herc exchanged a long look with his brother. _You're desperate; I get that. I can't very well blame you. But this is my kid._ "Give us a minute," he muttered, and he and Scott left the room.

"What do you think? You trust him?" Scott muttered.

"Damn it, I'm not sure." If there was another attack, if Herc were called to combat, that'd be one thing. He'd go. Anything for the chance to take a shot at these otherworldly fuckers who'd obliterated his home and killed his wife... or had it been the kaiju that killed his wife and not the bloody, blundering honchos and their nukes?

Was that fair of him? The second nuke had finally killed Scissure. Would he ever know if that had been Angela's death or if the monster had taken her first?

" _You're not the only one trying to hang on to whoever's left..."_ Maybe even Air Vice Marshall Ketteridge, with his crisp ties and polished shoes and dismissive attitude was still walking around with the after-image of that mushroom cloud burned into his eyelids, never able to make it go away no matter where he turned or how busy he tried to make himself.

Scott was dubious. "You and me, mind-melding? Dunno how that's gonna work, big brother. And what'll we do about Boyo?"

"If you go with me, I need someone else's name on paper," Herc finally said. "If I got called up, it'd be you keeping the kid, but if we both have to do it, we need someone else."

Scott leaned against the wall, pondering that. "You know I'd look after him. Not that I'd turn down the chance to shoot a missile or ten into these bastards' teeth." He and Herc shared an unashamed, bloodthirsty smile.

_"Here's to blue blood!_ " was a popular new toast in the pubs. Toxic or not, they all loved the sight of it, because it meant those pieces of shit were hurting.

Up until now, Scott was doing mechanical work on the base while Herc was on duty, but his shifts were still shorter than Herc's. He was the one who picked Chuck up from the minders and dropped him off in the mornings most days.

"You had the chance to talk to any of them? Anyone he especially likes among the kids? Somebody's Mum, maybe, might be willing to watch over him for a while?" Herc mused.

He wondered what it said about his fitness as a father that he didn't have a bloody clue.

* * *

The only time Herc really paid attention to what was going on during Chuck's days was when the teachers and minders reported him getting into fights with the other kids.

The elderly doctor who was charged with more or less the entire population of the family housing had assembled Herc and a small army of fellow parents to report their kids' "behavioral issues" early on. He'd assured them all that aggression and frustration and volatile emotions were to be expected among children and teenagers who'd survived such trauma, and of course, he and his staff would keep working. But the poor bastard had to deal with nearly fifty kids, so Herc had his doubts about what actual attention Chuck himself would ever get.

Hell, even Chuck's own father could barely make time for him during waking hours.

_But he stays with me. I'm not shipping him off to a boarding school, not while I have any say in the matter. In the end, I'm the one who'll be responsible for him, not some headmaster._

Scott had a few ideas: a fellow parent or two who had kids near Chuck's age, and others who'd just seemed attentive and sympathetic with him. Going to visit those flats, seeing kids who (at least on the surface) looked reasonably content and adjusted, most of them with mothers, Herc couldn't help wondering if maybe Chuck would prefer their situation to the one he was stuck in now.

It rankled him to discover that Ketteridge and the brass had anticipated them. The very first mother they talked with muttered in Herc's ear that a handsome stipend was being offered to anybody who took in a prospective Ranger's child.

"I don't blame you at all for wanting to keep him, mate," she told Herc. "But we can't do it, not with Danny and his sister such wrecks after Sydney." Her husband was a pilot like Herc, and the oldest daughter had worked in Sydney - and died of radiation exposure. They had a boy a year older than Chuck and a little blonde girl that made Herc think of Angela. Angie had wanted at least one of each, and when he'd imagined her daughter – she'd looked a lot like that in his mind's eye. The siblings seemed calm and relaxed when Herc visited, but he knew that what went on behind the scenes could well be different. "It's no criticism against your boy either. Danny, well... boys his age can be a bit high-strung to begin with. After his big sister died, his dad and me have our hands full."

Herc fought frustration after the third such conversation, but managed to reassure every parent he met that he had no hard feelings. They all had to look to their own kids first. Herc wouldn't be willing to take on another kid if he were in their shoes, not when he could barely provide for his own.

They finally hit pay dirt with one of the minders. Marian Taior was a tough-as-nails Aboriginal woman who'd spent her life on the margins of Australia's cities and still managed not to hate everything and everyone. There weren't a lot of people who could make Herc count himself lucky, but she did, and he thought (or hoped) that maybe Chuck would be the same. She'd been living to the west of the base doing odd jobs, mostly supported by her five children and nine grandchildren. Only the youngest of the five, Kyrra, was still alive, and none of the grandkids. Kyrra was an aeronautical engineer, working in Brisbane when Scissure hit. She was now preparing to join Australia's delegation to this new Jaeger Program. Marian worked through her own grief by helping to look after the base's displaced children.

"Sure, he can stay with me," Marian told Herc when he explained the situation. "I see him every day as it is." Herc looked away, taking it as a rebuke, but the older woman snorted. She was old enough to be his mother, and looked it. All the same, he had his suspicions that she'd still be alive and kicking once he'd run himself into an early grave. "You're not the only one who's had to make this choice, lad. You won't be the last either."

"I haven't even told him I'm going yet," Herc admitted. "Let alone that he'll have to stay or who he'll be staying with."

"He won't thank you." She was completely blunt, but he could respect that. The thin, weary smile she gave him was a comfort, small as any comfort was these days. "They never do. Hell, even if these giant robots of theirs work, I can't say if I'll thank anyone. All but one of my babies and grandbabies I've outlived now. What's there to thank anyone for?"

Here was someone he could trust with his son. Herc wasn't one for clean, sterile offices, books, and charts. He went with his gut in all things, and it rarely led him wrong. Except that these days, his gut felt as tired as the rest of him, and it was all he could not to think that he and his family were screwed no matter what he did.

"Just swear to me you'll keep him safe. Look after him until I get back," he muttered. To the casual observer, it would sound more like a threat than a plea... but this woman, this fellow parent, no doubt she could see through his brusque tone for what he was really doing: begging.

_He's all I've got left, and I fucking hate myself for even thinking of leaving him, but I've still got a job to do and too many scruples to abandon it altogether, so now I'm selling my soul and abandoning him. Tell me you understand, tell me you'll protect him._

"I swear," Marian replied, with aged eyes and a rough hand that briefly covered his. In a split-second, she let him go, and he stepped back, but the bargain was struck. "Keep an eye on my last girl for me. She doesn't need much protecting anymore; she can handle herself. But... put in a word now and then. Get her to call home."

To Herc's amazement, a smile tugged at his lips. He didn't smile much anymore. "Done and done."

_**To be continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** _ _Herc breaks the news to Chuck that he and Scott are leaving to train for the Jaeger Program. It goes as well as can be expected (translation: not well.) But April 2015 brings a new kaiju attack, and a giant mech called Brawler Yukon gives humanity (and the Hansens) a spark of hope they so desperately need in_ _**Chapter Three: Deals and Promises** _ _!_
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Air Vice Marshall Blake Ketteridge: Commanding Officer of Richmond Air Base, where many of the Sydney military survivors and families regrouped after Scissure. Soon to become Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC.
> 
> Marian Taior: One of the child minders of Richmond Air Base's family housing, an elderly Aboriginal woman who lost four of her five children and all of her grandchildren in Sydney. She agrees to serve as Chuck's guardian while Herc and Scott are training in Anchorage.
> 
> Kyrra Taior: Aeronautical engineer, Marian's youngest and sole surviving daughter, around age 40. She has been recruited to train for the Jaeger Program along with Herc and Scott.


	3. Deals and Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herc breaks the news to Chuck that he and Scott are leaving to train for the Jaeger Program. It goes as well as can be expected (translation: not well.) But April 2015 brings a new kaiju attack, and a giant mech called Brawler Yukon gives humanity (and the Hansens) a spark of hope they so desperately need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Note:** Many thanks to all for the reviews and comments! Please keep them coming! I promise, the mood of this fic isn't entirely grim. It has begun at a low point in a new war.  
> _

**Chapter Three: Deals and Promises**

_April 2015…  
Richmond Air Base, Australia…_

Marian Taior was right: Chuck wasn't about to thank him. The kid just stared at him when Herc awkwardly explained that he and Scott were off to Alaska for god-knew-how-long, and Chuck would be living with one of the minders from school until they were back.

"I've got no say in it, do I?" Chuck finally mumbled. "No say in anything."

"No." _You're eleven, of course, it's not up to you._ "You don't have to like it. I don't like it either. But I've got a job to do."

"Yeah, I know," the kid hissed, glaring daggers at their small table. "I know where I bloody rank in the scheme of things. Makes me wonder why you bothered coming after me in Sydney!" He didn't yell; Chuck rarely yelled at anyone old enough to kick his ass, but he could put enough venom in his voice to get the message across.

That was ironic, really. He'd picked that particular trait up from his dad, not his mum. Angela had been the one who tended to raise her voice.

Herc rubbed his eyes as Scott thudded his head against the wall once Chuck had stomped out of the flat. "That went well."

"Shut up."

Scott came up and smacked his head from behind. "Dunno how you expect him to smarten up when you won't! Bloody get your head out of your ass, Herc; he's not dead and neither are we!"

"What's your POINT?!" Herc demanded, spinning around. "Am I supposed to forget his mother's in ashes in Sydney along with every friend he ever had?! This two-room closet's gonna be his happy home from here on out, since Command _will_ have me shot if I try to get him out of here!"

"Maybe remember you're not the only poor bastard who's lost someone! A few of 'em out there have even managed to not walk around with a black cloud over their heads competing for the title of Most Miserable!" Scott shot back. "Especially the ones who've got a kid depending on 'em!"

"FUCK YOU! Like anything ever reaches you at the bottom of a bottle with a whore on your arm, gambling cash you haven't got!"

"We can't all follow your sterling example, and how's that working for you now?!" They stopped two inches from each other's faces - or, to be fair, Scott did. "Ah, fuck." He turned away and started to laugh. "And Ketteridge thinks we can pilot a giant robot with our brains."

After everything that'd happened, all the years and frustrations and often miles between them, Scott was still the one who could make Herc laugh the quickest. And when he least expected to be able to. It came bubbling out of Herc's chest again, past months of dead weight like hard-packed ash and stone that he'd been carrying around, trying so hard to breathe around it. It was nearly impossible to focus on anyone else. Not even his boy.

_Sorry, Angie. I'm no good at this without you. Hell, I wasn't much good at it with you._

Walking a few paces around the table, Herc looked away to pretend his shaky voice was all amusement and nothing else. "We can't all be eternal jokesters, Scotty."

"You know I didn't mean that. I didn't mean you can't miss her. She was one of a kind, and I'm not saying that because I was hot for her, whatever you might think." Herc snorted.

A few of his colleagues (or rather, their wives) had cast harsh eyes on Scott and remarked that Herc shouldn't let him be around Angela during his deployments. Herc had known better. His brother might be irresponsible with money, irresponsible with women, irresponsible with work, but behind it all was still a good man. Scott didn't bother married women or underage girls. Sometimes Herc suspected it was more due to Scott's desire to keep life as uncomplicated as possible than any noble sentiment or honor, but either way, the result was the same. And Scott's loyalty to family was absolute. As a result, Herc trusted him that far – which was a hell of a lot farther than he trusted most other people.

Scott rarely gave a damn what other people thought, but the gossip about his doings with his brother's wife and son bothered him enough that he'd even approached Herc once or twice. " _Whatever you might think of me, I'm not that kind of man._ "

" _Take it easy, you little ratbag. I believe you. Pay them no mind; I don't_." Herc had meant it, and Scott hadn't let him down. It had all culminated with Scissure, and his brother carrying his son back to the chopper and not questioning Herc once on his choice.

"I didn't. I trusted you, _and_ I trusted her." Funny, talking about her at this moment didn't sting so much. "She wasn't your type."

Scott chuckled. "Yeah, she was a stick-in-the-mud too, 'specially when the sprog came along." He meant it playfully, so it was all right... mostly. But if Herc thought about it too much, that sting would grow into a throb and the weight in his chest would erupt like a bomb, and he couldn't let that happen. His brother saw it or sensed it, and changed the subject in a hurry. "I got a good vibe from Marian. She'll look after him."

"You know what she told me? He won't thank me." Herc rubbed his gritty, burning eyes. "I knew even before I told him, that she's right. He won't ever thank me for coming after him in Sydney. He definitely won't thank me for this."

"Well, he's eleven. That's not the most grateful age to start with."

Sometimes Herc thought that despite Scott's avowed disinterest in child-rearing, he was better suited for it than Chuck's actual father. He was the one who'd taught Chuck boxing and one-on-one rugby when Herc was out of the country before K-Day. After K-Day, Scott was the one who brought the kid the first model planes to start replacing the collection he lost in Sydney. He'd cheerfully signed on to drive a truck of the oldest kids out for a day in the mountains off-base as Herc kept on piloting recovery missions in and out of Sydney.

Would Chuck ever understand that Dad was busy because he was trying to get just a few more people out of that godforsaken city? Would it matter to him one day that his father's choppers had carried doctors and rescue workers and brought back mothers and babies and kids his age?

Chuck sometimes relaxed when a couple of the recovery crews were walking around with their rescue dogs. He liked animals better than people. (Hell, Herc rather agreed with him most days.)

"You ought to get him a puppy," Scott suggested as they got ready to leave for Alaska.

"And who'd pay for feeding it? Marian's stipend'll barely feed a kid with his appetite," Herc said. The residents of family housing were good about trading and sharing, making allowances for the tweens in the throes of growth spurts or the little ones whose appetites were up and down from stress and trauma. The kids of the base didn't go without necessities, but there wasn't much margin for extras. The search and rescue dogs doubled as therapy dogs on-base, and their handlers regularly brought them to family housing and the daycare, but a single-family pet was out of the question.

Nine months ago, he could've done it. Angela would've been all for it. She liked everything with extra legs, but their last few housing units hadn't allowed dogs or cats. They'd had a few turtles, now and then a fish, and a couple of budgies that Chuck absolutely adored - especially the one Scott had patiently taught to curse, much to Angela's outrage. What had that noisy green bird's name been? Herc couldn't remember anymore.

Scott waggled a tablet in front of him with the PPDC's benefits information. "If we make pilot, you can afford one. You should tell him before we go, make it like Obama running for President. That'd make him feel better about it."

Herc shook his head. "I'm not making him promises when we've got no idea what'll happen in six months. It's bad enough he can't rely on the world not to try to kill him with alien sea monsters."

* * *

_April 23, 2015…_

He knew Scott thought he was hard on the kid, and maybe Scott wasn't wrong.

But even before they left, Scott had to admit he had a point, since the Breach under the Marianas Trench spat out another of those fucking beasts. This one headed northeast, straight towards Alaska, making everyone wonder if there would even be a base there after it was over.

Herc spent most of the alert in the base conference rooms with the other RAAF pilots, listening to the brass arguing about how or whether to send aid and wondering what he'd do if he was called on.

Then came the Jaeger.

Unlike the bewildered reporters commenting on the broadcast, Herc and most of his colleagues could read the situation. He knew even before the thing was dead that humanity was winning this one.

Chaos was already unfolding on the base, but it was good chaos, celebratory mayhem. Herc ran out into it without a thought, and wasn't even truly aware of where he was trying to go – at first. But he kept running until he found the room where the minders had gathered the kids.

The teachers and doctors had told the parents they would always keep the televisions off when the alerts went out, to try and prevent the kids from getting traumatized all over again. Today was different. When Herc arrived in the schoolroom, the broadcast of the events in Vancouver was running.

The news announcers were shouting out the narration of every blow the Jaeger struck against the kaiju, and there was not a tear to be seen in the schoolroom. The kids were cheering wildly, shrieking encouragement to the giant machine as it pummeled the monster into the Vancouver streets. Other parents and guardians on the base were of Herc's mindset, and joined him crowding through the doors in search of their children. They shoved through the mob of unruly kids to find their own and sweep them into their arms even as the reporters bellowed that the creature was dead.

Chuck leapt into Herc's arms without even hesitating, roaring triumph. Somehow they were spinning around, and Herc was barely aware that he himself was bellowing and laughing too, like he hadn't done since before K-Day. In the dizzy swirl of pumping fists and waving arms and tear-filled eyes and laughing faces, Herc saw Scott, grinning broadly somewhere by the door. As the uproar finally started to die down, Marian Taior herded Herc and Chuck together with a few of the other kids whose relatives had been called to Alaska.

"See there, you lot? It's the beginning of our new army. That's what your oldies are going off to do. You be proud of 'em."

Herc couldn't deny... that soft, collective, "oooh" from the roomful of ankle biters was damn gratifying. But nothing more so than the wide-eyed, awestruck look Chuck cast on him. He hadn't looked at his old man like that in years, even when Angela'd been alive.

* * *

Seeing a Jaeger kill a kaiju wasn't a cure-all for his kid's bitterness at being left alone again. Herc knew better than to hope for that.

But for that last week before the Australian delegation left, Chuck was a bit less sullen and didn't get into any more fights with his peers. He even asked questions, some of which Herc and Scott couldn't answer.

"What makes it move?"

"The pilots. The Jaegers all have two pilots," Scott explained. "It helps if they're related to each other; that's why your old man and me are going up there together. The pilots move it with their mind."

"How do they do that?"

"Dunno, Boyo. Probably a state secret," Scott informed him, grinning at Herc. "So we'll tell you if they tell us."

" _If_ we're allowed," Herc amended it, giving Scott a warning look. Scott rolled his eyes.

"When I'm bigger, can I fly one too?"

Herc nearly choked. Even before K-Day, Chuck had muttered that he hated the choppers Herc flew, defiantly collecting planes instead. He hadn't admitted to wanting to emulate his old man in any way. Even Scott looked stunned speechless for a few seconds. Cautiously, Herc croaked out, "Well... keep up in school, and... we'll see, eh?"

_Is that what a good dad's supposed to say? How the hell would I know?_

One of the mothers shot a video of Scott helping the minders corral the kids outside. He hoisted Chuck onto his back and clomped around the trampled grass with the kid operating his arms, much to everyone's glee. He even hauled two of the toddlers onto his hips so they could be proper Jaeger Rangers and managed to let them steer him jointly around to the rest of the class's cheers and shouts of encouragement. Herc was doubled over laughing when one of the boys near Chuck's age took a turn and made Scott hit himself in the face.

"Misfire! Misfire!" Chuck could be heard shouting.

But in the last few days before Herc and Scott's departure, Chuck's excitement faded, and the sullens came back in full force.

He wasn't talking much at all beyond one-word answers when Herc and Scott packed him and his few belongings up and got him installed at Marian Taior's. She brought him to the airfield, and the boy mumbled through an obviously-rehearsed farewell.

Then he blurted, "You'll come back, right?"

Scott took a hasty step away, and Herc fought not to back off himself. When Chuck cried, when he was scared or lonely, Herc's first instinct was to retreat. It had been Angela's job to handle that, not his.

_Coward,_ whispered a voice in his mind that might have been hers. _It's because you're a coward._

He locked his joints and stayed where he was, crouching on the concrete in front of his kid. Angela was gone. There was no one to take over the tough jobs anymore. His voice was raspy, but he made himself speak. "Yeah, I'll come back. I...I..." _Promise. I promise, son. Your old man'll be back, nothing'll stop me._ Herc was a terrible liar. Hence his refusal to make promises he knew he couldn't keep. "I'll do everything I can do. Get back to you some way." Was that a promise he could keep?

It wasn't enough for his boy, and they all knew it. Scott shot him a cross look as he stood and left the kid standing there with an old woman's hand holding him back by the shoulder. "Once in your bloody lifetime, can you tell your damn kid it'll be all right?!" he hissed in Herc's ear once they were on the plane.

"Fuck off. He's not yours. And I'm not lying to him."

_So I'm a shit father. I knew that already. He can call me a shit father, and I don't deny it. But he can't call me a liar._

**_To be continued..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Coming Soon:_ ** _Scott's POV. Far from home, far from Chuck, the Hansens find hope where they least expected it, and join humanity's fighting chance at the newly-formed Jaeger Academy in_ _**Chapter Four: Meeting of the Minds!** _
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Marian Taior: One of the child minders of Richmond Air Base's family housing, an elderly Aboriginal woman who lost four of her five children and all of her grandchildren in Sydney. She agrees to serve as Chuck's guardian while Herc and Scott are training in Anchorage.
> 
> Kyrra Taior: Aeronautical engineer, Marian's youngest and sole surviving daughter, around age 40. She has been recruited to train for the Jaeger Program along with Herc and Scott.


	4. Meeting of the Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott's POV. Far from home, far from Chuck, the Hansens find hope where they least expected it, and join humanity's fighting chance at the newly-formed Jaeger Academy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** Thank you all so much for the reviews and feedback! Please keep it coming! Regarding this chapter and others, you'll notice that it breezes through experiences that took multiple chapters in Aurora Borealis. The reason for that is because this story is dealing with Herc's experience of partnering with two people: his brother and his son. However, the latter relationship is more complicated and very different from any other part of this canon, so rather than be repetitive, I'm glossing over parts of the early years that deal with the struggles brothers have drifting._
> 
> _**Headcanon Note:** For more details on the activities, struggles, and shenanigans of the Mark-1 pilots, read Chapters 1-3 of Tales From The Front Lines._

**Chapter Four: Meeting of the Minds**

_Summer 2015…  
_ _Jaeger Academy, Kodiak Island, Alaska…_

In the back of his mind, Scott did _not_ expect drifting with his brother to work. The more he learned about it, the more skeptical he felt. Herc, open up to anyone, let alone his infamously ne'er-do-well younger sibling? That'd be the day.

Apparently, this was that day. And Scott found that Herc was as surprised as he was.

Before they ever got near the simulator and the pons neural bridge, there was physical testing and brain scans and getting their heads shrunk six ways from Sunday by Military Psych. That last part was especially humiliating. Scott's consolation came from the other trainees who were further along, and their reassurance that everyone had to go through it.

"Just roll with it," the American twins urged them. "We're having to adapt a lot of things to take down kaiju. They're giant sea monsters from another planet. Bringing completely different weapons against them, that means we change the way we think too."

"It is awkward," the Chinese brother and sister, Min and Jing, acknowledged. "We can get used to it."

So they did. The prize was sweet enough for Scott when he saw the media lavishing Caitlin Lightcap and Sergio D'onofrio with praise, and set his eyes on the massive mechs under construction in the Assembly Building.

When they finally made their attempt at drifting, Scott still had doubts. But a far greater shock came with his discovery that Herc's doubts lay with himself, not Scott.

_What would Scott want with my stuffy head, anyway?_

_I was a shit husband, still a shit father and a shit brother._

_Yeah, I can hold down a job, but not a family._

Herc was scared. Scott wouldn't have believed anyone who'd have told him that before (and would probably have knocked their teeth out for suggesting it). His immovable, unflappable big brother was even more scared than Scott of the kaiju, of what it would mean for them all. Scott was disgusted with himself for thinking Hercules Hansen never let anything get to him.

_You knew before now how much he loves that boy, you insensitive idiot. Of course, he's scared._

* * *

Their first few drifts ended when one or both of them slid to the floor or staggered into the toilet to vomit their guts out, shaking and ripped open and exposed. After each one, they stood outside in that frigid Kodiak air for as long as they could tolerate, until one or both of them feared their noses would fall off. Even during the summer, it got colder than Scott would have ever imagined, and the "warm" part of the season seemed well past by the end of August.

It was several drifts before they managed to actually _talk_ about what passed in the drift.

"You're not weak," Scott finally told him. "We'll protect him. We both will. When we've got a Jaeger, we'll protect him better than ever."

"He won't thank us," Herc mumbled. That lashed at Scott, the realization that his brother was all but resigned to never having his son's understanding, let alone his love.

_Tell me again why I should settle down?_ Well, when Angela'd been alive, Scott had understood it. He'd envied Herc, not Angela herself, but what she represented: all that storybook true love, devotion, a woman who'd do anything for you and make you want to do anything for her. She'd been a beauty, but too clean and wholesome for Scott's tastes. Perfect for Herc, of course.

Still, as they'd tested in the pons, he'd seen what Herc had seen, the depths of the joy they'd had, and Scott... wondered. Wondered if he would ever be fit for a woman like that.

"Don't be an idiot," Herc told him when he caught that in their practice. "Of course, you are. Maybe not at some of the pubs you went to, but there are plenty of girls who like a good time but still capable of love. Angie and I were drunk off our asses when we met."

Scott laughed. "I already know more about your courtship than I'll _ever_ want to know, thanks very much!" Yeah, okay, Herc and Angela had got their party on - among other things - before Chuck came along. Dear God, how Scott had cringed when that went floating around the drift, and Herc had been so red in the face he'd looked like he might pop.

Those moments would be really fucking funny if only somebody else were Herc's partner and not his brother!

At least they weren't the only team who went through some damned awkward moments. About half of the pairs now in contention for Jaegers were related: along with Herc and Scott, there were the Gage twins from the US, a and a pair of fraternal twins from Panama, Carlos and Jordana Chen. There were two Chinese teams: Jing and Min Li, a sister and brother, and Yan-Jie Lim and Fang Lao, who were first cousins.

The married couples, the Kaidanovskys and the Jessops, were interesting teams, but all the rest had at least known each other before showing up at Kodiak. Herc had met Stacker Pentecost and Tamsin Sevier during training and joint operations with the Royal Air Force before K-Day. There was another pair, Maria Lopez and Miguel Blanco, who'd been pilots for the same squadron in the Argentinian Navy.

Pentecost was a rather stuffy bloke – very, _very_ British – but he won a lot of points in Scott's estimation for pulling Herc aside a few days after they arrived. Reporters were camped out on every road approaching the base, and a few tactless asses had tried to ambush Herc with questions about his family.

Scott was grateful when he saw the conversation between Herc and Stacker in the drift. _"We had damage reports coming in continuously before the second nuke was dropped. She worked in the MLC Center?"_

Herc had nodded, numb. Nobody'd ever made the effort - or taken the risk - of speaking to him so openly about it before. _"Do you... want to know?"_ After a brief hesitation, Herc had nodded again. " _The tower came down during Scissure's first pass, and he went over it twice before the bomb was dropped. They seem to have a thing for tall buildings,"_ the Briton had muttered. _"If that's any consolation at all - I know it may not be._ "

Herc and Scott supposed they had no reason to take Pentecost at his word... but they both wanted to. Herc did think the man was making an effort to tell the truth, and from Pentecost's point of view, it was the truth. But Herc still had his doubts, and Scott shared them. The damage reports that Stacker had seen would've come from the Australian military, so they would have gone through the hands of the ones whose decision it'd been to drop the bomb. They'd have wanted to justify their scorched-Earth decision.

Scott vaguely remembered Stacker and Tamsin from his own brief stint in flight school. They'd been trainers in joint operations with the Brits. Pentecost was the name of a really foxy RAF fighter pilot - that he remembered clearly. Herc managed to warn him before he stuck his foot in his mouth: "That was his little sister, Luna. She got killed in action on K-Day."

_Well, fuck_. No good news to be had for a lot of these prospective Jaeger pilots. Sevier was a sexy little thing, maybe even more Scott's type with her eyebrow piercings and tattoos. But she was practically glued to Pentecost's side. Scott suspected that all the unattached drift partners were going to end up attached by the time this thing was over, and he knew he wasn't the only one who thought so.

* * *

_Autumn 2015…_

There were seven Jaegers rolling out in this "first class" in the autumn of 2015, and another seven set to roll out in 2016. They were declared the Mark-1's and the Mark-2's.

But to the frustration of the UN and PPDC brass (not to mention the prospective pilots), only a fraction of the pilot applicants were succeeding at the drift. Two months in, Scott and Herc were proud – if incredulous – that they themselves were still in the running.

Air Vice Marshall Ketteridge, now the Australian liaison to the PPDC, sent a flood of personnel from every base he could visit. Although it did look like Australia was going to end up with two Jaegers assigned to defend the southwest quarter of the Pacific, so far, the Hansens were the only pair from their shores.

There was quite the brou-ha-ha over the Jessops. Duc was from a Japanese family who'd lived in Australia several generations, but Kaori was born and raised in Tokyo. Ketteridge wanted them for Australia, but Japan also was paying for two Jaegers, and they wanted their one and only successful citizen assigned to them.

"You're just the most popular bloke in the program!" Scott told Duc, who was heartily embarrassed when the UN reps from Japan and Australia looked like they'd start a tug-of-war during the latest vid conference.

"Just so long as everyone remembers who he's married to," said Kaori.

"Sorry, love," said Tamsin. "For God and country, we'll have to arrange a marriage between you and a good local boy, and marry Duc off to an Aussie… how 'bout Scott? Is that legal in Australia yet?"

Herc belly-laughed, the traitor. But even as the Gages prepared to start giving Scott hell, three young faces peered around the corner, drawn by the ruckus. Herc and Pentecost and the more decorous characters hurriedly turned the subject to something tamer, but the Gages and the Chens commenced eavesdropping on the latest round of initial test results.

To everyone's astonishment, the three nearly-identical kids weren't somebody's relatives or offspring: they were drift candidates. Herc and Scott were among those shocked that Jing and Min Li had returned from China's recruiting campaign with three teenaged street fighters in tow. There were a lot of dubious looks exchanged, but the "second stage" pilot candidates (including the Hansens) finally spoke up about it when the Wei triplets passed the initial round of tests and were advanced to formal Jaeger training.

"They're _how_ old?!" Herc blurted.

"Sixteen."

"Wait just a minute, that's too damned young!" Pentecost protested.

One of the Gages demanded, "Where the hell are their parents?!"

"They have no family," Min began.

The Chinese brass were collectively shrugging it off. "You did not say there was a minimum age. Two sets of twins have succeeded. Siblings do better."

"Are they even old enough to drive yet?"

"This is too much!"

The whole group started arguing until one of the trio – Scott couldn't begin to tell them apart – remarked, "We speak English." In the embarrassed silence that followed, another of them told the Gages, "We have no parents. We fight for money at home. This is just a test, yes?"

"They have a point," murmured Sasha Kaidanovsky. "No one will be forced. If the testing succeeds but the candidates do not wish to pilot, they can go home. Or wait until you feel ready." The triplets nodded.

Scott could easily guess what was going on in Herc's head as he looked from the brass to their fellow pilot candidates to the three kids. _Jesus, they really are just kids. I wouldn't have pegged them for much older than Chuck._ Okay, a few years older, but, still… kids.

Caitlin Lightcap didn't know what to make of the situation, but Herc and Scott could tell she liked the boys. "What sort of situation did they come from?" they heard her asking Min and Jing.

Jing shrugged. "It is Shanghai. Children whose parents lacked wealth or connections have few options. Their aunt and uncle raised them, but with little money and no protection but their friends. The parents are dead. Like most boys, they fight to defend themselves and make a living, and they know a hard life will only be harder when the kaiju arrive in China. They heard that blood relatives were being sought. They came to us."

The Wei brothers scored one of the highest initial handshake percentages that anybody had seen yet. They were an inscrutable trio, not as obviously sullen as Chuck and the boys back at home could be. For their first few weeks on-base, they stuck close to the Lis, Yan-Jie, and Fang. Scott sensed Herc feeling guilty for not being more welcoming to the kids, but like just about everyone (Scott included) Herc had no idea how to break the ice.

The ice broke when the first ice started showing up in Kodiak – in October. The triplets were among those who huddled in the doorway of the half-finished, barely-heated housing building and looked utterly appalled at the frozen, muddy landscape that lay between them and the laboratories. The Kaidanovskys strolled out across it without blinking, damn Russians! Kaori and Duc muttered curses, but didn't hesitate too long, nor did Pentecost and Sevier.

"Why, why, _why_ did they have to build this damn place in Alaska?!" fumed one of the Gages.

"Why did they?!" demanded one of the triplets.

"No idea, son," Herc replied. "Shit, and I thought Vancouver was bad. Nothing for it, come on!"

The triplets trailed out into the cold after him like ducklings. The pons test building, while heated, was still big and drafty. While waiting their turn in the lab, the triplets ended up huddled together around a heater in a pile of discarded jackets and scarves that actually looked like a nest. Before long, they had the Chen twins, the Argentinians, and the Gages with them, and then the whole group made room for Herc. The Kaidanovskys just shook their heads and dropped their own coats onto the pile. The nest occupants kept them for extra bedding.

Scott took a picture on his phone for posterity.

Caitlin was puzzling over the Wei brothers' test results when Herc and Scott finished their latest round. "All three of them are compatible with each other," she was explaining to Stacker and Jasper Schoenfeld. "Consistently too. No matter what order you pair them in, they're well into the ninety percent range."

"But?" Stacker asked.

She chewed on her lip, then said slowly, "On a whim last night, I bridged all three of them together." She pointed at her screen, and Pentecost's eyebrows shot up.

"A hundred percent on only the fourth try?!"

"Jesus Christ," Herc muttered, and shamelessly went to look over their shoulders. "How many tries did it take the Gages?"

"Seven. I think Carlos and Jordana will get there soon – I think everyone in this 'class' will get there, but I've never seen anything like this. I didn't think it was possible." Now she shot Stacker a look that was almost mischievous, which surprised Scott. Lightcap always seemed a bit on the timid side, especially when Schoenfeld was around. "So… I had this idea."

Herc grinned. "Another one, huh? Well, your last idea already killed two kaiju, so out with it."

Even Pentecost smirked, and Caitlin explained, "The issue with their age – it _is_ an issue, I agree," she added quickly, nodding to Herc and Stacker. "They'll be seventeen in December, but even if it's partly their age that's let them synch up like this… ethically, we shouldn't ignore it."

"So?" asked Schoenfeld, sounding impatient.

"So, none of the Jaegers currently in production will use them to the maximum of their abilities. We'd have to divide them up, two at a time like all the other pilots. They could still do it; they're all in operational range no matter what order you put them in. But… all three together, they'd be something else. It would mean a Jaeger design specific to them. It could take a couple of years, but a Jaeger with that kind of link would have abilities that none of our current pilots could manage. The neural load would be too much even for two. For three..."

"There is the funding," Herc mused. "So far, China's Mark-2 is the most sophisticated design, but they're still pushing the envelope." He shot Scott a wry look. "Their Command is also the least concerned about the age issue."

"Are there gonna be Mark-3's?" Scott asked.

Schoenfeld nodded. "Hong Kong has one of the biggest engineering teams in the Pacific. And the biggest budget."

The staccato punch of a basketball reached their ears. The triplets had fallen in with the regular intra-crew players, especially now that the weather outside was so nasty. Herc couldn't play worth shit (neither could Scott) but he seemed to like watching. Scott didn't need the drift to know who he was thinking about.

* * *

Much to Scott's frustration, and Herc's as well, while the Hansens were performing well enough in the pons and the rough simulator that the engineers had built, there were several teams performing better. It only miffed Scott more to see that the second team to be firmly assigned a Jaeger was the pair of Navy pilots from Argentina - not even a Pacific country! - and that Jaeger was in turn assigned to Australia.

"So we're still stuck with training wheels while the bloody Argentine tango dancers get to defend our turf," Scott fumed. It didn't improve his mood to see Maria Lopez and Miguel Blanco dancing all the time. She didn't have the time of day for Scott, bloody frigid bitch. Well, maybe she was already fucking her co-pilot, contrary to their claims, but unless Jordana Chen or Jing Li were into incest, they certainly weren't. Neither of those fellow pilots appreciated his friendliness either.

"Maybe dial it down a bit," Herc suggested. "Let them do the chasing."

"That what worked on Angela?" Scott grumbled.

"No, but I wasn't after her like some kind of hunting trophy." Scott wasn't in the mood for sage elder-brotherly wisdom, especially not when it came to women. When Herc started that up, he went off their shitty little base to the nearest shitty little bar and found someone more entertaining.

And Herc was such a bloody liar; he'd been hot for Angela from the first time he met her.

It was a strange, terrible relief for Scott to sense in the drift that Herc knew now that his brother was a good man. It was hell to know there'd been times that Herc had doubted it.

"I'm sorry, Scott." To his genuine surprise, Herc was the one who apologized for it. "Look… I know I can be a pompous ass about things. I'm too hard on my kid, too hard on you. Mine's not the only respectable life path; I should've admitted that a long time ago."

Tired, drained from another frustrating practice run, Scott asked, "Where's that open mind coming from? Don't tell me I'm taking over your mind already."

"You wish!" Herc threw an elbow, but not nearly fast enough for Scott not to dodge it. They both laughed. "Maybe a bit. And it's not like the rest of our comrades here have carried on lives of celibacy and poverty."

"God forbid!" Scott mock-shuddered. "The day we take vows of chastity for that Jaeger is when you're on your own! There are limits!"

Now Herc was the one looking wickedly amused. "The Order of the Mech. We all wear metallic snuggies and chant…"

Bloody hell, Scott's brother was actually developing a sense of humor! This was terrifying! "Brooo, you're scaring me now! I'll be traumatized!"

"We take vows of… of… how's it go? Poverty, charity, and abstinence – "

" – Noooooo!"

"What the hell are you two on about?" Duc and Kaori Jessop demanded, hearing Herc's taunts and Scott's yells of denial. The Gage twins were a few steps behind them, looking on curiously.

Scott pointed at his brother. "He's forming a cult of the Jaegers. We all have to take vows of abstinence."

"Dude, we're gone!" The Gages spun around in unison and headed the other way. "We didn't sign up for abstinence!"

"Right behind you, mates, right behind you! Get out while you can!"

* * *

A few days after Brawler Yukon, took down its second kill in Lima, Peru, the PPDC declared the site of the South American Jaeger Launch facility to protect the Western and Southern Hemispheres. In early November, just as ground was being broken in Lima, Scott and Herc were called before a council of the brass for their decision.

"Gentlemen, the seventh Mark-1 Jaeger is going to be yours. She'll be assigned to Australia and the Philippines, and the Sydney launch facility once it's complete. Her launch should take place before the end of this year."

Scott and Herc exchanged a long look. Scott couldn't keep a grin off his face; Herc only just managed it. "Does she have a name, sir?" asked Herc.

"Not yet," said Jasper Schoenfeld. "Why, got something in mind?"

Herc surprised Scott yet again. By rights, that idea should have been his, but… somehow he must have known he was picking a suggestion his wager-loving brother would approve. "Lucky Seven."

_**To be continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** _ _Being the local boys has its advantages for Team Lucky Seven. Our heroes return to the Land Down Under to open the new Sydney Shatterdome, but Herc finds that he still has lines to draw in the sand to keep his family together in_ _**Chapter Five: The Home Team!** _
> 
> **Please don't forget to review!**
> 
> ** The Jaeger Program, Class 2015-A Original Characters **
> 
> _The Mark-1's_
> 
> Miguel Blanco and Maria Lopez: _Talon "Tango" Tasmania_ : Argentinian Navy pilots, they were friends before enlisting in the PPDC and got into the habit of dancing for fun - and were discovered to be drift compatible.
> 
> Min and Jing Li: _Horizon Brave_ : China's first Jaeger pilots, siblings and air force officers in their early 30s, they helped shape the program that would become the Jaeger Academy and recruited many talented people into the program, including a certain set of triplets.
> 
> _The Mark-2's_
> 
> Carlos and Jordana Chen: _Puma Real_ : Fraternal twins from Panama (also of Chinese descent), in their late 20s, they were commercial pilots when the Panamanian government asked them to attempt drifting after the Gage twins' success became known.
> 
> Yan-Jie Lim and Fang Lao: Silver Lion: Chinese air force pilots in their late 20s, first cousins, they were recruited by the Lis and would go on to pilot China's second Jaeger.


	5. The Home Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being the local boys has its advantages for Team Lucky Seven. Our heroes return to the Australia to open the new Sydney Shatterdome, but Herc finds that he still has lines to draw in the sand to keep his family together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** Thank you all for the wonderful reviews and your patience over the past two weeks! Work has been absolutely brutal, but your feedback gives me life and keeps me sane during these rough days! Please keep all the comments, criticism, and questions coming!_

**Chapter Five: The Home Team**

_January 2016...  
_ _Sydney, Australia…_

They brought Lucky Seven to Sydney after Christmas for her formal launch on New Year's Eve. Herc had missed another of Chuck's birthdays, but Scott consoled him by pointing out he was bringing back a bloody fantastic present for the kid. And the look on Chuck's face as the Jump Hawks carried Lucky over the shore above the screaming, jubilant crowd was the only thing that mattered.

Once the press were chased away after the initial launch and introductions, Herc and Scott wheedled permission to bring Chuck into the conn-pod. The Sydney Jaeger Launch Facility – now called a Shatterdome – was little more than a husk of scaffolding with one very-hastily-finished segment that could shelter a Jaeger and her crew. Since only one section of the Sydney Dome was complete, Talon Tasmania was initially assigned to Hong Kong to be the roommate of Horizon Brave. Scuttlebutt said that there was political pressure for Talon Tasmania to stand guard over the in-progress Lima Shatterdome, closer to Maria and Miguel's home country until a few more South Americans finished training.

Only the Hong Kong Shatterdome was actually complete by the time the Mark-1 Jaegers were launched, and Sydney's engineers shamelessly plagiarized the design, as did the other host countries. Japan was putting in two of them, one in Tokyo and another in Nagasaki. Another was going up near the newly-christened Jaeger Academy in Alaska, another in Los Angeles, and still another in Lima. Russia was considering one of its own, as was Panama.

Scott was smug (at first) that the Hansens landed the Sydney assignment even though the Argentinians had launched earlier. The joke ended up being on him – because the northern Shatterdomes got the first deployment after the 2015 launch blitz. And it was Talon Tasmania who took Digonek, the biggest kaiju yet, down in Ussuri Bay near Vladivostok. Herc couldn't deny a little disappointment (and had no doubt his fellow newly-minted Rangers shared it), but he was glad the kaiju hadn't gone anywhere near Australia, and proud of how well Talon and Tacit Ronin handled themselves.

He was more nostalgic over the fact that Maria Lopez and Miguel Blanco became the second pair of Rangers to get engaged after combat, continuing a "tradition" started by Caitlin and Sergio. Scott picked up on it, and gamely joined the Aussie crews in cracking open bottles of champagne to toast the demise of another kaiju and Miguel and Maria's announcement.

"Will they get married here in Sydney, you think?" Chuck wanted to know.

"Hard to say. It might be easier for them to have a wedding with their families back in Argentina." Scott grinned and prodded the kid. "Watch yourself, or we'll put your name forward as ring-bearer!" Herc grinned over the top of the kid's head at his brother, seeing Chuck's panicked expression.

When Lucky Seven was installed in Sydney, Herc treated it as a foregone conclusion - in front of the cameras: "The housing on this new base'll include families, right?" Past the eager reporters, he looked Ketteridge in the eye, daring him to challenge that. _Go on, you bastard, try and say it. Right here in front of the press. Tell me to ship my boy off to some boarding school._

Kyrra Taior hadn't achieved drift compatibility with anyone, but she came back to Sydney with Herc and Scott to serve as one of the on-site engineers. She smoothly stepped in to lend a little weight to her Rangers' position. "Yeah, good point, there, sir. You know I'm sole caretaker for my Mum. If this Shatterdome's going to be a fully-functional base, there'll have to be family quarters."

Herc and Scott carefully avoided mentioning Chuck by name, and refused to discuss him with the media. They could fall back on his status as a minor when the paparazzi tried, but Chuck remained the ace-in-the-hole sympathy card, as Scott put it. "All we need is you storming up to the reporters announcing that when you've got to defend the whole bloody country against the kaiju, and the heartless brass want you to abandon your child. Every parent in the Pacific'll be looking to skin them alive."

It didn't come to that; Ketteridge and the brass caved.

Thus, Marian and Chuck were allowed to live on-base with their newly-transferred PPDC family. Marian took the job of on-base child minder, and that gave other personnel the option of relocating their families to the growing Dome as well. The only option for school was tutoring via satellite for most of them, supervised by a single teacher for the whole group in one schoolroom/daycare near the infirmary.

It wasn't the prettiest of settings, full of machinery, noise, grease, and smoke, in sight of the shattered remains of Sydney... but the families were together. For most of them, it was more than they'd dared to hope for. More than a few of Herc and Scott's new Jaeger crew pulled them aside to thank them for pushing the issue.

Whenever Lucky was out at work on drills and tests, Marian brought the kids outside to watch. "That's one of the few moments they're all quiet. They all just stare. Nearly every one of them's got a collection of articles and pictures - those, they fight over. God help us when the action figures come out."

Scott and Herc deemed it a point of honor that they had to have the very first editions of the Jaeger action figures, and even on the days that they were out the door before Chuck woke up and home long after he was asleep, every new one was waiting on the table before it was released to the public.

* * *

Herc and Scott had some high hopes for the teacher the medics hired... at first. Olivia Morton was young, just recently licensed, but with a kindly, gentle manner towards the kids and reassurances to the parents. Her light hair and efficient, organized office reminded Herc of Angela. "Do you like her?" Scott asked Chuck. The kid just shrugged.

When she scheduled meetings with each of the parents individually, Herc took it as a good sign that she'd try and give each kid individual attention. It couldn't be easy, having to coordinate satellite classes for over twenty kids ranging from toddler to high school, most of them wrestling with memories of Scissure and dead relatives. Herc initially thought to bring Scott along, as the _de facto_ second parent, but Ms. Morton refused. Hmm.

She greeted him in her office with warm semi-formality, shaking his hand and getting his rank right. Most people on-base still referred to Herc by his RAAF rank rather than the PPDC title of "Ranger." He'd landed a promotion to Flight Sergeant just by completing Jaeger training. Scott was a Sergeant now.

Herc made an effort to match her attitude, but he'd never been good at this sort of thing. Mess hall camaraderie, he could do with ease; formal reports to superiors, he could manage fine. When the lines and the roles blurred, he just felt lost and guarded - and put more effort to trying not to let it show than actually focusing on whatever he was supposed to be talking about.

He mumbled noncommittal agreement and appreciation for Morton's compliments to Chuck. Yes, he was a smart young man, yes, growing quite handsome, yes, he resembled his mother.

Then Morton noticed Herc frowning at the collection of brochures on her desk, and finally got to the point. "I thought we should talk about the options for Chuck's education."

They were all pamphlets for schools: boarding schools, some scattered around the country, others bloody overseas. Herc took a few deep breaths and forced himself to not snap. Maybe she didn't realize he'd already had this conversation with Marshall Ketteridge. Hell, maybe Ketteridge had put her up to it without forewarning her. If so, she didn't need to be hit with the backwash. So with a polite, cautious half-smile, Herc told her, "These look to all be live-away schools."

She nodded, with what seemed like sympathy. "I know, it's a hard thing to face, but we have to be realistic about what's best for him."

Herc folded his arms. "Fact is, ma'am, that's not what I've got in mind at all." She paused, startled, and he clarified, "I'm not interested in sending my kid away. I'm his father, and I mean to keep him with me."

She faltered, confirming his suspicion that whosever idea this tack had been, nobody'd put her in the know on Herc's position. That cooled some of his ire, but on the other hand, the condescension he now sensed behind her smile did neither of them any favors. "Sir, I know this is hard for you. But do you really think you can provide what Charles needs in a parent with this lifestyle?" Herc gritted his teeth and let her say her piece. He had no doubt he was not going to like it. "Your duties as a pilot of these _Jaegers_ has you occupied more than twelve hours every day, and the same for Charles's uncle. Charles is going to need the _presence_ of good, stable influences to recover from his mother's death and the trauma he's gone through. Dr. Kim has observed numerous behavioral problems such as aggression and isolation from his peers. These need to be consistently addressed through therapy in a safe, structured environment."

"I thought part of the plan here was for all the base kids to get therapy."

"Via satellite and therapist visits to the base. This might be enough for a younger child, or one with a more stable home life, but my opinion is that Charles will need more." Now the teacher looked puzzled as she considered Herc. "I... would have thought you'd welcome the opportunity. Being responsible for a preteen here on the base is a heavy burden." Herc stared, and felt heat gather in his chest as he worked out what she was implying. It must have shown on his face, because she started to backtrack. "I only meant, it's - ah - it's a great deal to think about on top of your work - "

"My kid's not a _burden._ " He managed to keep his voice level, but it was so low that came out like a growl. He had to get control of this conversation before he got any angrier. "And maybe you hadn't heard, but I already had this conversation with Marshall Ketteridge. My son stays with me."

Morton looked torn between being afraid of him and being affronted by him. "This is not an ideal environment."

"I never said it was. Nothing about the bloody kaiju is ideal." Herc scanned the materials on her desk and managed not to feel smug. "You don't have any other ideas except shipping him off to be someone else's problem?"

"I never said that - "

" - Good. You've got the degrees and the license. I'll be glad of any advice I can get, but just so we're clear: your advice should be how _I_ raise him, because I _will_ be the one raising him." _You're not taking him, Ketteridge's not taking him. He's all I've got left. I'm not giving him up. Maybe some ivy-walled school and a lot of teachers and shrinks could do better by him... but he's_ mine _, not theirs. I'm not just handing him off._

"We'll - we'll... have to work out a treatment plan, then."

"Have at it." Obviously, she'd not even begun one. He forced down his smoldering temper and tried to come up with something constructive to say - without giving a hint of how much he didn't know about Chuck's state of mind these days. He wasn't in the bloody mood to consider that she might be right about his ability to be a proper father, gone all day, almost every day. He'd make it work. He wouldn't consider anything else. They'd have to damn well get a court order before he'd give his kid up to someone else's custody again. "He likes animals. He's got a lot of sense... doesn't mess around with the machinery or go climbing under caution tape like some kids do. Not yet, anyway," he smiled wryly. "He'll go looking for books and articles on the Internet to find out how stuff works, though."

Ms. Morton sighed, relenting. "Do you at least monitor what he reads and watches?"

He managed not to roll his eyes. "I keep him off the porn channels and the hate groups, if that's what you mean. Base IT does a fair job of that. For the most part, I let him read whatever he likes. What's the harm?"

"The harm is in a twelve-year-old being exposed to content that's properly for adults, that may frighten him or confuse him," she huffed. "He needs someone who will take an active role in setting boundaries and giving guidance, not letting him play Grand Theft Auto whenever he's not in class."

"Little chance of that since he doesn't care for gaming," Herc shot back. There: he did know a thing or two about his own kid's tastes in entertainment. "I can talk to him more about... what bothers him, sure." That wasn't too much to expect. "He's got his uncle as well. Scott's good at connecting with the kids. He spent more time with them before we got assigned to the Jaeger Program, and he's still committed to his nephew."

She practically turned up her nose, much in the way other officers' wives had once done when they talked about Scott. "Is he such a healthy influence on a preteen boy?"

_Fuck you. You don't have a bloody clue what you're talking about._ "He loves Chuck, and Chuck loves him. He's told me to my face when he thought I made bad calls about the kid, and he's been there for him. We weren't here twenty-four hours before he was wandering around the grounds looking for safe spots the kids can run about outside. He and I aren't always on shared duty; we can trade off making sure Chuck gets proper attention."

If he doubted himself on that score... well, to hell with that. What this snippy girl and her neat, shiny office and her pretty boarding school brochures was proposing wouldn't serve as the solution either. _Down, Herc. She's trying to speak up for the kid. Yeah, she doesn't know shit about him, but she's trying, and probably thrown in over her head same as the rest of us. Give her a break._ "We've got our work cut out for us, I know," he said, trying to be conciliatory. "But it's my job and I'm not handing it off."

He couldn't tell if that restored his standing in the teacher's regard or not - and wondered if he'd had any standing to begin with. She went back into formal mode, a bit cooler than the way she'd started the meeting, saying she'd have an "educational and parenting plan" ready for his review in a few days. He was tremendously relieved to get out of her office.

* * *

The Shatterdome quarters were a bit more generous than what they'd been squeezed into at Richmond Air Base, but not much. Two bedrooms, with him and Scott in bunk beds in the larger. It was a tight fit with three chairs around the round table in the kitchen/living room, but if they wanted, they could probably manage to eat a meal together. Scott had already started putting up shelves above Chuck's little desk in his room so he could start displaying his model planes - and the first Jaeger action figures - properly again.

He found a very anxious Scott waiting up. "Well?"

He stretched, casting his jacket onto the table with a groan. "Not as productive as I'd have liked, but at least I told her where I stand." He eyed his brother. "Why?" Had Morton and/or Ketteridge been stirring the pot outside their offices, maybe looking to enlist Scott in this little campaign? If so, there'd be hell to pay.

Scott he muttered in Herc's ear, "Chuck's convinced you'll send him away." Herc's legs nearly went out from under him. He looked instinctively towards the second bedroom door. It was closed, and the kid was immured in there evidently waiting for the axe to drop. "I don't know who told him that - if anyone - but he's got that in his head."

For a minute, Herc's head just spun. Morton couldn't have already - Ketteridge wouldn't have dared - no way would Marian - but hell, all Chuck had to do was read, and he'd see enough examples of kids being shunted off to boarding school by parents who couldn't be bothered.

He mutely shook his head at his brother. Scott let his breath out. "No, I didn't bloody think so, and if you were leaning that way, I'd have kicked your ass. You've got to tell him that, Herc. Now. He's scared."

Yeah. Herc was his father. He was supposed to be there for him, especially when he was refusing to send him to a school that might give him more attention. No excuse not to do his part as a father. _Pull it together, man. And no sloughing this off on Scott either._ He made himself get up, breathing until his knees stopped shaking and he could at least keep up the appearance of being strong for his boy. Then he went to Chuck's room and opened the door without knocking.

There was a pitiful little ball on the twin bed, squeezed so tight he seemed to defy the laws of matter. The light was off, but Herc flicked it on without preamble. No chance Chuck was asleep; Herc had seen him move. He was... shit, he was trembling, vibrating under the blankets.

"You're not going anywhere," he muttered. He heard his son's breath catch. "I dunno where you got that idea, but... you're staying right here. I'm not sending you away."

There was a burst of movement as Chuck flipped himself over to face him, still curled up with a death grip on his covers, but now he was staring at his dad with wide, frantic eyes in the dim indoor lights. Did that mean... Chuck actually _wanted_ to stay in this dreary windowless apartment on this noisy, crowded base just to be with his dad and his uncle?

_"It's not up to you,_ " he'd told his boy when he and Scott left for Anchorage and left Chuck with Marian.

But did it follow that what Chuck wanted didn't matter at all? _The needs of the child_ , Olivia Morton had kept talking about. Had she considered that Chuck might not want to go off to some boarding school and start over among strangers again?

If Herc was going to do right by his kid, he needed to be present whenever he could, and at least try to show Chuck that he mattered. He crossed the room and sat down on the edge of Chuck's bed, putting an awkward hand on his shoulder. Chuck stared at him, then slowly started to uncurl... as if Herc's touch was comforting. _Yeah, there's a nice fantasy._ He shook himself out of that mindset. _Step up, Hercules. His mum's not here. It's on you._

"That you might... that a school somewhere else was a possibility, Miss Morton and I talked about that. But we're not gonna do that." He made himself meet his son's eyes. "You'd rather be here?" Chuck nodded without even hesitating. "Okay. She and Dr. Kim are working out plans for you and the other kids, how you'll take classes, how we'll get you some time outside. It's not gonna be easy sometimes. Your uncle and me've got a big job."

"You're Jaeger Rangers. It's important. I'll be good."

He smiled to himself. _Dunno if that's in your DNA, my lad._ "We're in it together. We'll make it work out."

His son smiled at him.

**_To be continued..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Coming Soon:_ ** _Herc and Scott have their work cut out for them to manage a lonely, frustrated preteen in such a stressful environment. But Scott has a few ideas, and one of them leads to a meeting that will change Chuck's life forever in_ _** Chapter Six: Love at First Fight! ** _
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Air Vice Marshall Blake Ketteridge: Commanding Officer of Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC.
> 
> Marian Taior: An elderly Aboriginal woman who lost four of her five children and all of her grandchildren in Sydney. She served as Chuck's guardian while Herc and Scott are training in Anchorage, and now assists with Sydney Shatterdome's childcare.
> 
> Kyrra Taior: Aeronautical engineer, Marian's youngest and sole surviving daughter, around age 40. She attended the Jaeger Academy but failed to be drift compatible, but returned to the Sydney Shatterdome as an engineer.
> 
> Olivia Morton: A newly-licensed teacher hired to manage the children of Sydney Shatterdome's family housing. Late 20s, with several degrees but little practical experience.
> 
> Miguel Blanco and Maria Lopez: _Talon "Tango" Tasmania_ : Argentinian Navy pilots, they were friends before enlisting in the PPDC and got into the habit of dancing for fun - and were discovered to be drift compatible. Fell in love during training and got engaged after their first kill, fittingly, on Valentine's Day 2016.


	6. Love At First Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herc and Scott have their work cut out for them to raise a lonely, frustrated preteen in the Sydney Shatterdome. But Scott has a few ideas, and one of them leads to a meeting that will change Chuck's life forever. Boy meets Dog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** _ _Thank you all once again for all the reviews! Please keep them coming! Sorry that the length of the chapters is a little erratic - I tend to choose pace and picking the right stopping spot for a chapter break. Also, it will probably be two weeks until the next update due to the next spate of work deadlines. Thank you also for your patience, and please don't let up with the questions and comments and concrit here, on the comment boards of AO3, or my Tumblr! I welcome all discussion!_

**Chapter Six: Love At First Fight**

_Sydney Shatterdome…  
_ _May 2016…_

It wasn't as if Herc's newfound status and fame mended things with Chuck. Far from it. The boy still wasn't much for making friends his own age. According to the teacher and Marian Taior, Chuck spent a large chunk of his time in school sulking – or getting into brawls.

One of his worst fights was with Danny Oliver, the kid with whom Herc had actually tried get him housed before the trip to Kodiak. The pair got into it while Herc and Scott were deployed in May 2016 for Onibaba.

"I'm not blaming it all on Chuck," Danny's mother told Herc wearily as the base docs patched the boys up. "I know what my lad's like when he's in one of his moods."

But while Chuck was younger and a little smaller, he'd absorbed a bit more of Scott's boxing lessons than anticipated. He'd broken the Oliver kid's nose and fractured a cheekbone. Chuck had some nasty bruises of his own, but the older boy was going to be a mess for months.

"What was it about?" Herc asked gruffly.

Abby Oliver looked away, embarrassed. "I'm... not rightly sure. Something to do with Lucky's deployment, that, you know, you didn't..."

"We didn't actually get to fight Onibaba," Herc finished, and managed not to groan.

Barely six months after the Mark-1 launches, the first two Breach events had resulted in kaiju wandering off to the north. First Vladivostok, then Tokyo. Lucky had been deployed for both, but didn't engage the target either time. Hell, they'd never even gotten near it. Scott was cross about it, and Herc couldn't deny a bit of disappointment, but... well, that was how it went sometimes. And the bogeys hadn't gone anywhere near Australia; that was a relief.

But Herc and Scott hadn't been passive youths themselves, and he knew what teenaged boys could make of this situation. With Chuck's temper and growing strength, Danny Oliver had been baiting the bull.

Scott thought it was funny. "Now aren't you glad the kid can throw a good punch?"

"Now we've got some other brat's medical bills to pay," Herc snapped.

"Says who? It's the Oliver brat's fault for starting something he couldn't finish! Let his parents deal with the bills. We're Rangers; what're they gonna do?"

"That's not the attitude I'm bringing my kid up with, and if you start pushing it, we're going to have a big fucking problem, Scott," snarled Herc. "You do not muck around with my boy if I decide to punish him, if I give him work, or anything else."

They stared each other down, but in this, not for the first time, Scott yielded. "Fine," he mumbled. "Your son, your call. I get it. I keep my mouth shut." He walked away.

_I didn't mean it like that._ Herc almost called after him. _Damn it!_

He didn't want Scott out of Chuck's life. Not when his brother was the one who could make Chuck laugh wholeheartedly, inventing ridiculous, hilarious games with the Jaeger action figures and model planes, tearing around the few trampled patches of grass with the boy on his back operating his arms. There was no missing the way Scott felt about the kid. The way Scott happily sorted through the piles of outrageous gifts the Hansens received from media and admirers, picking out the things he thought Chuck would like first, setting them aside.

So on their next drift, in Sydney's new simulator, Herc relented. _I know what he means to you. I don't want you to lose that, or him to lose you. I just have to make the hard calls, Scotty._

Satisfied with the outcome of their fight against virtual Onibaba in Tokyo, Scott was at ease again, his frustration pounded out. _Yeah, I know. It's easy to want to be "fun uncle," but you've got to handle the discipline stuff. Just as well; I'd be shit at it._

They laughed, the drift fizzing with the mental equivalent. The motion rigs kept them a yard apart, same as a conn-pod, but within the drift space, Herc ruffled his brother's hair. _Yeah, I can't see you playing the bad cop, you softie. He's got you wrapped around his little finger._

_Which is why I'm going to keep at you until you get the kid a puppy._

_ARRRGH!_

_Every kid should have a puppy!_

_You didn't have a puppy, I didn't have a puppy!_

_Exactly, and look how fucked up we are! Puppy deprivation! Herrrrc, get your boyo a puppy!_

_And what do I do when it grows up into a bloody dog?!_ But Herc was laughing so hard that his rig was shaking, and the pons techs were grinning through the window at him. They had no idea what Herc and Scott were talking about, but they knew some sort of drift-shenanigans were in progress.

That summer, coming up on Chuck's thirteenth birthday, enough law and order had been restored to the remaining neighborhoods of Sydney that the base kids could get out more. Some animal rescue group started rounding up all the strays abandoned in the chaos, treating the ones they could and looking to start re-homing them. Of course, they put out feelers to the family housing section of the Sydney Shatterdome.

"Shouldn't the Jaegers have a mascot?" one of them cooed, bringing a Aussie sheepdog, a moggie kitten, and a baby lop-eared rabbit as her ambassadors.

_Ah, hell._ Most of the kids promptly hurled themselves at their parents, begging and pleading. Chuck didn't... but he did stare. And Scott shot Herc a _look_ that was unmistakable.

_Who's gonna take care of it? We can barely keep Chuck looked after without help,_ Herc protested in their next drift.

_He's nearly thirteen. He can manage. Get him a book; he can recite Lucky's core elements from memory! He's bright enough to handle a dog!_ Scott projected an image of a teacup Chihuahua that a couple of the girls - and Kyrra - had been squealing over. _I almost got him that one._

_Then you'll definitely be the one walking it. I'll get it a cute little sparkly pink leash with feathers and a matching purse for you._

But Herc pulled one of the rescue workers aside when they were parading their four-legged charges past the press lines outside the Dome the next day and muttered, "What's a book for a kid about keeping a dog? Y'know, the responsibilities?"

The woman's face lit up, and Herc managed not to growl at her. The last thing he needed was the paparazzi weighing in on his child-rearing. She did contain herself and murmured (albeit with a saccharine grin), "We have some pamphlets, and they have a whole list of books."

* * *

_Summer 2016…_

It was as well that Herc and Scott were distracted with pet research that summer; Lucky was yanked off the active duty roster for almost three months along with the rest of the Mark-1 Jaegers. "Where the fuck did that come from? We haven't even had a full deployment!" Scott ranted.

"Radiation shielding needs to be improved," Kyrra told them. "Apparently, it's urgent. Pentecost and Sevier've been grounded, _permanently_."

Herc stiffened, no longer as disgruntled as his brother. "Is that what took Sevier out in Tokyo?"

She nodded. "The medics have been worrying about that with this entire line, and with the Mark-2's as well. Fourteen bloody months to build those reactors and get the things pilot ready, and they were experiments to begin with. Metharocin's not going to be enough if the radiation shielding's not improved."

Now Herc's blood was running cold. "Fuck... I've had my son up in there." Scott too forgot his own frustration in a hurry.

After several dead ends through the regular official channels, they put in a call directly to Stacker Pentecost. " _Herc. I was just thinking of contacting you_."

Herc wished he could be a little more sensitive about it, but not if there was a danger to his boy. "Look... sorry to hear about Coyote, but nobody higher up seems to have a straight story. What's this about radiation dangers? You know my son's here with me on base."

Stacker wasn't offended by Herc's demand for information, and began tapping away on his keyboard at once. " _I don't think there's any risk to people who aren't on or in the Jaegers on a regular basis. How often is he with you in Lucky?_ "

Making himself breathe, Herc started counting on his fingers. "He's been in the conn-pod four times. In the bay unshielded more, but hell, the bloody day care is only a five-minute walk down the halls!"

" _What kind of checks are they running for your Dome? If you've got concrete walls, the school room's probably okay, but they should still be running the Geiger counters around in the Jaeger bay_."

"I don't bloody know," he admitted.

"I'll find out," said Scott, and he marched out of their quarters.

Herc rubbed his eyes. "Sorry to jump on you, Stacker. I know you've got your own problems."

" _No apology necessary. It's an issue every one of us could stand to keep an eye on_." Pentecost sighed, looking about twenty years older than he had in Alaska. " _Tamsin's already left for Hawaii. She's been diagnosed, Herc_. _Aggressive treatment will probably start in a couple of months. And it's probably only a matter of time for me. I'll be getting half my lymph nodes biopsied in the next year_."

"Damn. I'm sorry. You were magnificent in Tokyo. So was she, and then when the - complication hit... I wouldn't have thought that was possible, what you did. I hope they're treating you well now."

" _Well enough in the medical benefits arena. Tamsin's going to work with K-Watch; at least she'll have something to think about. I've been promoted to Marshall_." Pentecost gave a wry half-smile. " _I'm C.O. of the Academy for this class, possible command of a Shatterdome when the next ones are open_."

"Well, I'm sorry we're losing you as Rangers, but I can't argue with those promotions. Congratulations. I hear Academy's got a few thousand applicants now."

" _Applicants, yes, but a fraction of those will pass screening. Forty-eight made the first cut this past spring, and three teams are left. One of them will inherit Coyote when she's finished with her refit_."

"Tough act to follow." Herc said, giving an imaginary tip of the hat. Pentecost frowned, distracted, and Herc recalled he'd mentioned wanting to talk with him. "There was something else on your end?"

Now... did the man look nervous?! " _There was_ ," Pentecost said slowly. " _About your son - only in general -_ " he added as Herc stiffened. " _Or rather, I should say, about... parenting_."

Herc just barely managed to keep his eyeballs in his skull. "Oy?!"

* * *

Scott nearly fell out of his rig in shock when he discovered how that conversation had gone in the drift. _Stacker bloody Pentecost is a father?! When did that happen?!_

_Keep it in the drift, Scotty, for the same reasons as we'd demand for Boyo. He's adopting the girl, the little one in the blue coat from Tokyo._ Herc was awash in incredulity too, but also admiration for the man.

Scott couldn't blame him; he'd never have pegged that buttoned-up Briton as the paternal type, but the drift did weird things. _Or maybe piloting solo buggered up his brain._ After nearly three hours alone dueling a kaiju to the death, maybe old Stacker had imprinted on the girl.

_Oy, show a little respect,_ his brother scolded. _That was a damn good fight, and damn near killed him and Tamsin. If he wants to raise an orphan in his honorable retirement, he's got a right to try._

_No arguments here._ Scott wondered at the man's thinking, not so much the sentimentality of taking on a kid from his battle, but willingly separating from his partner. He and Herc hadn't even gone into combat yet, and he wasn't sure he could handle that.

Herc didn't say it, not even articulated in the drift, but emotions and attitudes were like clouds and shadows, washing around them in the head space, and Scott knew he agreed.

Marian was on to them as she caught Chuck feverishly studying the books on pet ownership that Herc had got for him. To their shared relief, she was all for it. "He's a dedicated lad when he thinks it's worth his while. His maths and hard science scores are through the roof now that he's imagining being a pilot. He'll be a good dog owner."

The pet rescuers were no fools. They could hear the whispers on the wind in the Shatterdome rumor mill, and brought their fundraising paraphernalia - and adoption candidates - around the public entrances on a regular basis. The growing population of Dome staff had started a betting pool on what sort of dog Chuck would end up with. They were shameless about it in the mess hall every day.

"Ten on a toy poodle."

Much snickering and sidelong grins over breakfast trays followed. "Herc would never let him."

Herc growled at the J-Techs. "If the kid wants a bloody poodle and is willing to look after its curly little arse, I will let him have a bloody poodle."

Unconcerned with their Ranger's rising hackles, Kyrra declared, "That's it for me, then. Twenty on a puggle!"

"What the hell's a puggle?" Scott was mostly enjoying the taunting of Herc, but now he wondered what sort of mutant canines they were dreaming up.

"Cross between a poodle and a pug."

That actually sounded rather cute. "I like pugs," Scott conceded. "They have curly tails, and they don't shed fluff all over the place."

Damn, he'd given Herc an opening. His big brother shot him a wicked smirk. "Well, take that up with the boyo, then, Scotty. If he wants a fluffy little Fifi with bows on its head who leaves fur all over your pants, I will get him a fluffy little Fifi - just invest in lint rollers."

Hell. His brother won that round.

The crew were beside themselves, slapping their thighs and pointing at him. "And he'll rope you into walking it, Scotty-boy! HAHAHAHAH! Doggie hair's the newest fashion statement! How manly you'll look! We'll make Fifi into Lucky Seven's mascot!"

"LUCKY ALREADY HAS A MASCOT!" Scott bellowed.

"What's the matter? Can dish it out but not take it?" Herc shoved him. "Get a grip and lighten up."

"Shite, Herc's telling Scott to lighten up. When did we end up in the Twilight Zone?"

"I will train that dog to jump up and grab your balls, Hercules," Scott vowed. "Even if it is a fluffy little Fifi."

* * *

The Olivers almost ended up with the fluffy little Fifi when the daughter went to pieces over a long-haired white poofball (reportedly a Maltese-Pomeranian mix), but managed to compromise on a sleek, tiger-striped moggie. "At least he'll use a litter box and doesn't need to be walked," Danny's mother sighed. "Emma likes him, and Danny'll tolerate him for her sake. And his fur's short."

PPDC medical benefits had paid for Danny Oliver's assorted treatments after his knock-down, drag-out with Chuck, although Herc had been prepared to foot any leftover bills, much to Scott's irritation. Scott still thought Herc should've circled the wagons, especially given that Chuck hadn't provoked that brawl. At least Danny'd learned his lesson and was giving Chuck a wide berth nowadays - though he was shooting poisonous glares at the younger boy whenever Scott saw him. To Scott and Herc's private glee, Chuck was now two math classes ahead of Danny Oliver despite having started a class behind.

"Little Danny-boy brags that he's going to the Jaeger Academy as soon as he's old enough," Kyrra snickered. "At this rate, Chuck'll qualify before Danny's done with high school."

Despite Chuck's frequent clashes with his classmates, Herc and Scott had enough allies among the personnel to help run interference and keep the press away when his birthday got close. However, they were stalked by J-techs and construction crewmen going down to the shop front where the rescue group (funded by the business they got from the PPDC) had now set up a semi-permanent residence just off-base.

Oh, shit, there were half a dozen fluffy little Fifis in the place - who'd bribed the bastards? Scott was going to strangle someone, and from the sudden green tinge to Herc's face, he was thinking the same despite his vow of neutrality.

Chuck was very quiet, but keen-eyed as he examined the pups and adult dogs available for adoption. "We have all these too at our bigger kennel," added the workers on duty, bringing up an array of photos on their desktop. "Give the word, we'll have one brought in."

"Ohhh, look at the Chihuahua!" Kyrra cooed. Herc shot her a look that would send a kaiju screaming for cover.

Well, all right, the little black and tan ratling scampering around the play pen was rather cute, but Scott wouldn't admit it. And dear God, the yapping! _What the hell was I thinking, encouraging this?_

And yet... Chuck was grinning now, watching the little mite's antics. He didn't smile openly much, not even when Scott played Jaeger for him. _Damn. Maybe not fluffy, but we're gonna end up with a Fifi, and we won't be able to say no._ Well, he'd hold out for not calling the thing a stupid name. Maybe a Mexican name for a Chihuahua, stick a little sombrero on him and play it off...

Chuck turned his attention to a proper little Aussie cattle dog mix, who came bounding up to challenge the Chihuahua - and pissed on the floor when the ratdog lunged at him. "Oh, hell, he always does that," sighed one of the workers, going for a spray bottle. "Hang on a minute."

The visitors were shunted to the side for clean-up, and Scott was eyeing his brother over Chuck's head, both of them mentally debating the pros and cons of a piss-happy cattle dog versus a fluffy little Fifi... when Chuck knelt to examine a quiet little ball of wrinkles along the wall of the play area.

Hmm. "Pug?" Scott murmured to one of the rescuers.

She shook her head. "English bulldog."

"Oh, _English,_ there's trouble." Scott tsk'd in mock dismay. "Dunno if we could have one of those in the house."

But the little brown and white bundle of wrinkles looked up at Chuck with black eyes that seemed no less intense and curious than the boy's. One of the rescuers grinned. "Watch this." He handed Chuck a squishy plush bone, which Chuck presented to the pup. "He's got an inner wrestler."

Pup certainly didn't act prissy and English. He seized the end of the bone and began wrangling at it, little high-pitched growls coming from his pint-sized chest - and drool flying everywhere. "Uh-oh, he leaks," warned Kyrra.

But Herc's lips were starting to twitch. "What's this one's name?"

_"Stacker!_ " Scott coughed, earning himself an elbow to the ribs.

"Max," the female rescuer said. "You could change it if you wanted, of course."

"Is he aggressive?" asked the teacher from the Dome who'd trailed along after them. She sounded disapproving, as usual, but then again, she always sounded that way to Scott's ears.

But Miss Morton wasn't the one who'd be deciding what dog Chuck took home, and the pet rescue volunteers knew it. "Nah, just towards toys. He knows where to direct it. See?" Chuck was actually giggling, and as he scratched the wrinkled head, little Max dropped his prey and hurled himself to the floor, all four feet in the air. "Loves a good rub, that one."

Herc was grinning, and damn if it wasn't obvious he was Chuck's dad at this moment. Personnel tended to mutter they could see the resemblance when Chuck (or Herc) were scowling, but it came out in rarer moments too. He winked at Scott, but shocked all of them by putting a finger to his lips when the rescuers would have prompted Chuck to comment.

The kid looked up at his dad, who quickly made his face blank. "I can pick any one I want?"

"Choice is all yours, Boyo," Herc confirmed. If he ever noticed in the drift that Scott's throat got a little tight, Scott would deny it to his dying day. "Take your time." Though he eyed the Great Dane taking up half the space in the pen and shot the adults a pained look, forcing them all to stifle laughter.

No chance. Herc probably knew before Scott did, and it certainly didn't take Scott long to work it out: Chuck had eyes only for Max the Bulldog. "There is drool in your future," Marian Taior muttered to them, grinning. Herc just shrugged.

In twenty minutes, Chuck had Max in his lap; in thirty, one of the rescue workers was teaching him some of the tricks for bulldog grooming. Another was murmuring tips in Herc's ear. "He's a mix, so he won't have some of the health problems the purebreds do. He'll live a bit longer too."

That startled Scott. "How long?"

"Ten years, if he's well taken care of." Damn, they hadn't figured on a life span that short. It seemed like the neighborhood dogs and cats had lived forever growing up.

Well, this wasn't the time to dwell on it, as Chuck came towards them with the little bundle of wrinkles cradled in his arms. "I want Max."

"'kay. Let's sign the papers and take him home."

Scott saw the look on his nephew's face at that moment in Herc's headspace for years.

**_To be continued..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Coming Soon:_ ** _We fast-forward through the remainder of 2016 to the momentous summer that saw the launch of the Mark-3 Jaegers, and the introduction of Lucky Seven's new Shatterdome-mate, Vulcan Specter. But Scott Hansen's way with the ladies (or lack thereof) spells trouble for teamwork in_ _**Chapter Seven: Who Let The Dogs Out** _ _!_
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Marian Taior: An elderly Aboriginal woman who lost four of her five children and all of her grandchildren in Sydney. She served as Chuck's guardian while Herc and Scott are training in Anchorage, and now assists with Sydney Shatterdome's childcare.
> 
> Kyrra Taior: Aeronautical engineer, Marian's youngest and sole surviving daughter, around age 40. She attended the Jaeger Academy but failed to be drift compatible, but returned to the Sydney Shatterdome as an engineer.
> 
> Olivia Morton: A newly-licensed teacher hired to manage the children of Sydney Shatterdome's family housing. Late 20s, with several degrees but little practical experience, she views the world in black and white when the kaiju have already turned many things gray.
> 
> Daniel (Danny) Oliver: A classmate of Chuck's, about 18 months older, son of one of Herc's fellow helicopter pilots, Greg. His little sister, Emma, is six years younger, and his elder sister, Karina, was a first responder in Sydney who died of radiation poisoning at age nineteen. He and Chuck have a lot in common, but sadly, lack the maturity to empathize at this stage in their lives. Both boys dream of joining the Jaeger Program as pilots.
> 
> Abigail Lemanu Oliver: Danny's mother, daughter of French Polynesian immigrants, who was one of the parents Herc solicited to possibly take care of Chuck while Herc and Scott attended the Jaeger Academy. Abby reluctantly refused, being already tasked with taking care of her traumatized, grieving children and her aging mother, but she remains sympathetic to the Hansens (even when her son and Chuck get into fights in school).
> 
> Greg Oliver: Herc's comrade and fellow chopper pilot from before K-Day, now a support pilot for Lucky Seven. Like Herc, he moved his displaced family to Richmond Air Base, then to the Sydney Shatterdome and joined the Jaeger Program in the wake of Scissure. He lost his parents in the attack, and his oldest daughter, Karina, was an Australian Air Force cadet who joined the initial rescue effort only to be fatally injured by radiation in the wake of the nuclear bomb.


	7. Who Let The Dogs Out?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The momentous summer of 2017 saw the launch of the Mark-3 Jaegers, and the introduction of Lucky Seven's new Shatterdome-mate, Vulcan Specter. But Scott Hansen's way with the ladies (or lack thereof) spells trouble for teamwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** _ _Many thanks to everyone for all the reviews and feedback! Please keep it coming! This chapter marks the full-on merge with Aurora Borealis, but that fic isn't required reading. The only headcanon you need for this chapter is that Herc first saw Raleigh years before Manila - dancing with his friends at a semi-illicit party in Romeo Blue's Jaeger bay on his eighteenth birthday in December 2016. Among that partying crowd were the Gages, the Tunaris, Tendo, and Raleigh and Yancy's classmates, the future pilots of Vulcan Specter. (It's Chapter 10 in Aurora Borealis if you just want to read that, and as Herc had a cameo POV in that fic, the Becket boys have the occasional cameo in this one.)_
> 
> _**Nerd Culture Note:** _ _Scott's comparison at the end of the chapter is to a famous scene from the Game of Thrones series, where spoiled prince Joffrey gets slapped around during a much-needed lesson in manners by his uncle Tyrion._

**Chapter Seven: Who Let The Dogs Out?**

_Sydney Shatterdome…  
June 2017…_

When Herc got frustrated with his brother, he only needed to think of how Scott was with Chuck to remind himself Scott was a good man. The way Scott had watched Chuck picking out Max was as comforting a rabbit to chase as watching Chuck and Max themselves.

As the rest of the Mark-2's launched and 2016 wound to a close without Lucky Seven getting to fight, Herc couldn't deny being restless and frustrated.

Scott... well, Scott restless _or_ frustrated was not a good thing.

Scott's off-base sources of entertainment got rowdier and attracted more paparazzi. It was all Herc could do to get him to not come staggering drunk and cursing into quarters and waking Chuck up. "You want your adult activities, fine, but you keep it away from my boy."

Scott cursed at him and called him a fucking prig - but he did find other places to sleep it off and never brought any of his one-night-stands near quarters. And he did usually mumble an apology for showing up hung over and/or bruised at training. "I'm so fucking bored, Herc."

"Yeah, I know. But if the old crowd's not doing it for you, maybe find a new one." Herc had run with the hard-drinking, hard-gambling set on and off, but he'd managed to grow out of it. He had to fight to keep himself off that mindset now that he was drifting with his brother, since it only antagonized Scott to sense him wondering, _When the bloody hell are you going to GROW... UP?!_

Talon Tasmania never came back from her stint as senior Jaeger in South America. She became the first Jaeger to be destroyed in combat in February 2017, and her pilots, Maria and Miguel, only two months after marrying, became the first Rangers killed in the line of duty.

As a result, even the grand opening of Sydney's completed Shatterdome in May 2017 wasn't as good an event as it might have been. The mood of the Jaeger Program had sobered, and Lucky Seven was Australia's sole protector until the Mark-3 team arrived.

Herc was hoping that having another team of Rangers around would shift things, get Scott's attention off his gambling and his girls. Scott loved the challenge of working with Lucky; with these planned team exercises, Herc thought it would direct some of his younger brother's energy to something a little healthier.

If only Vulcan Specter's up-and-coming Rangers, Devi and Susanti Hassan, hadn't been pretty young women.

Scott liked to whine that "nice girls" wouldn't give him the time of day, but since he didn't treat anything female much better than the skirts he perved on at strip joints. What did he bloody expect?

Worse, Marshall Ketteridge was a bit old school when it came to gender roles in the military - and nationality and religion. Herc hadn't ever had really wondered at the man's prejudices before… he'd been so enthusiastic about Herc and Scott's role as pilots that Herc had assumed he'd just be thrilled to get another Australian-born team. But Herc quickly worked out that the daughters of Indonesian immigrants whose family photos included women in headscarves weren't what Ketteridge had had in mind. It was obvious he didn't think much of the Hassan sisters' credentials.

Still, Indonesia had contributed a chunk of change to Vulcan's construction, and the Jaeger had been built in Brisbane, where the Hassan family was from. So whatever xenophobic and/or chauvinist objections Ketteridge had to the Hassan sisters, they'd been overruled.

Herc liked them. He'd already been inclined to like them from the first impression of them at Christmas 2016, seeing them dancing with the Gages and Tunaris. _There, you see, Scott? It's possible to have a good time without getting shit-faced or picking fights._ He couldn't quite hide that in his heart of hearts, he half-wished Scott _would_ end up pairing off with a fellow Ranger; maybe that would help straighten him out. God knew, Herc's attitude had changed thanks to Angela.

But it seemed that Scott never learned. He slimed the younger sister with no more finesse or subtlety than he'd shown with Maria Lopez or Jordana Chen back at the Jaeger Academy (or Tamsin Sevier, or Jing Li, or Caitlin Lightcap, or any or all of the females that passed into his peripheral vision).

Susanti Hassan was no more impressed than they had been. "Personal space, mate, you heard of it?!" she growled as Scott crowded her, practically drooling down her shirt.

"Don't be rude to your superior officer now, love!"

Herc dove in before it could escalate, seeing Susanti's lip starting to curl and something feral starting to flash in her elder sister's eyes. He put a very hard grip on his brother's shoulder and growled, "Nothing intended, _right,_ Scott?" _Back the fuck away from the female officers._ He manhandled his brother out of the room with a quick wave of apology. "What the hell are you trying to do?!"

"I'm being friendly!"

"Yeah, you're friendly and the kaiju are fluffy little Fifis. They're Rangers, goddammit! Show some fucking respect!"

Scott just snorted and walked away.

Herc sought the sisters out, and found them with their newbie crew scoping out Vulcan's bay, wagons thoroughly circled. "Listen... I'm sorry about that."

He wondered if it was the drift or their native synch that led the pair to act so much like twins. They both eyed with with arms folded, defensive and wary. "Interesting sibling you got there, Ranger Hansen," said the older girl.

_Great. Just great._

* * *

The Sydney Rangers started up team training, first in the Kwoon and then in the simulator. The initial results were… not encouraging. The Hassans and their crew were constantly looking for trouble from nearer-by than from the Breach. Herc was never sure whether Scott was trying to provoke the Hassans or himself with his "hold" attempts in the Kwoon.

In desperation, Herc even went up the chain. Marshall Ketteridge agreed to "have a word" with Scott, but Herc saw it in the drift, and knew exactly how much good that conversation would do.

_"A man's a man, Scott, but we've got a code of conduct!"_

_"Hey, neither of them are married or underage,"_ Scott protested, all innocence and knowing smirks.

Ketteridge wasn't much better. _"Yeah, but they're stiff little things. Probably it's a religion issue too. Muslim, you know. It's not worth it; get yourself a couple of blonde Jaeger Flies. Less bitching there, less drama in the Shatterdome._ "

" _No challenge there,"_ Scott huffed, and Ketteridge laughed.

_"Just keep it out of the tabloids, eh? What you do off-base during off-hours is your business, but we've got a reputation with the other Domes, and you've got Herc's ankle-biter to consider. So pretend we're all good respectable gentlemen at work."_

_Thanks for nothing, Marshall,_ Herc wanted to spit.

One week in, only Herc and the crews' constant vigilance had prevented Scott's little overtures from ending in blows and/or gunshots, and the Hassans weren't having anything to do with them except for mandatory training.

Their first two rounds in the team simulations were complete bloody disasters; Scott blamed the Hassans, the Hassans blamed the Hansens, and Herc was ready to do a conn-pod drop without the conn-pod.

He and the more diplomatic crew (though most of Team Vulcan - with some justification, he had to admit, were pretty thoroughly disgusted with their senior Rangers) tried to smooth things over, but it was guilt by association in a lot of Team Vulcan's eyes. Herc had tried to talk to Devi, apologizing yet again for Scott's immaturity, but also to reassure her, "I know he's a bit of a cad, but he's a good man."

Her lips thinned, and she'd given him a raking look that put him on the defensive. "You tell yourself that, Ranger, if it makes you sleep better. I'm surprised self-deception works in the drift."

_Well, fuck you too, love!_ This was just a match made in heaven.

* * *

_July 2017…_

The Sunday before the first Mark-3 was slated to roll out from Anchorage, Herc had to admit he was looking forward to the Hassans departing, just for a relief from the tension. (Hence, he'd added his own voice to the semi-pleading chorus backing their request for leave to watch Gipsy Danger launch. That was probably the reason Ketteridge signed off on it.)

Even though, in his heart, he had to also admit it wasn't really the Hassans' fault. Scott had decided the sisters were hot when they were pissed off, and nothing could piss them off faster than his aggressive version of "flirtation."

The ice-breaker ended up being Max... and Chuck.

The Hassans must have known by now about Herc's kid; Chuck was a favorite topic of Dome gossip. After morning drills, Devi and Susanti departed to go running with some of Team Vulcan. Herc exchanged the usual curt nods as they passed, and that was. It was just as well that Scott was still asleep with a raging hangover.

But the weather was good, if brisk, and Herc seized the opportunity to get outside with the kid and the dog.

Chuck was in one of his sullen moods, so Herc didn't try to engage him in conversation. He just walked Chuck and Max out to the edge of the grounds and left them to it. On the water-side of the Dome, there'd be no paparazzi lurking, and the kid could run and throw a tennis ball with the pooch without fear of hitting something.

At least until the runners from Team Vulcan turned up again. Herc was doing katas fifty yards away, keeping half an eye on them, but followed the ball's trajectory and stood to shout a warning - _shit, too late._ Tennis ball went careening straight for the runners, and forty-five pounds of energy-driven muscle went galumphing after it.

Herc hurried toward them and braced himself for shouts and curses - but instead he got squeals. An equally-alarmed Chuck was also running to catch up with Max, and the two of them discovered Max in a clutch of giggling women, rolling around in ecstasy as they rubbed him from head to toe. In the thick of it, Devi and Susanti Hassan.

"Oy! Hi, there - oh!" Devi blinked as she took the measure of Chuck and Herc, and hurriedly stood up. "Don't worry, we're not dog-nappers." She dug up the ball from under their feet and tossed it back to Chuck.

"Who's this lovely boy?" asked Susanti, not pausing from rubbing the dog down, mindless of the drool Max was dishing out on her.

"That's Max," said Herc, when Chuck faltered. "My son, Chuck."

"Hullo, Chuck!" One of the LOCCENT techs – wasn't he a relative of the girls? – stepped to the front of the group and held out a hand. Chuck shook it quickly, but his eyes darted to Herc as if he wasn't sure he should be talking to this lot. Herc had tried to contain his (and Scott's) ranting at home, but doubtless the gossip mill had reached the kids. So Herc gave what he hoped was an encouraging nod-and-smile, and the man went on, "I'm Indra Hassan. My cousins, Devi and Susanti. They're your dad and uncle's new neighbors."

Foot-shuffling and awkward exchanged glances ensued. It was the younger Hassan sister who decided to wade through the tension. "Does Max fetch, or just chase?"

Chuck looked defensive, as if Max's character were being attacked. "He always brings it back!"

"Eh? Wanna show us?"

"Go, Max!" Chuck took the bait, and so did Max, who ripped up the already-abused turf as he tore after the airborne ball. Susanti and Devi exchanged a quick, wordless, and very-Rangerly look, and Susanti trotted after Chuck and the dog. Indra gestured at their cohorts to carry on running, but trailed more slowly behind, lingering with Susanti.

Herc and Devi stood watching as Max dutifully brought the tennis ball and several strings of drool back to Chuck, and Susanti wheedled him into letting her take a shot. The dog bounded off again to much praise from Indra, who drew Max's young owner out on the subject of dogs and Jaegers. Chuck smiled more easily with him; towards Susanti, he was almost shy.

Herc gazed at them in silence with his fellow Ranger, and was still debating what the next step would be when Devi Hassan, ten years his junior and less than half his pilot experience, took the first shot. "What d'you say? Wanna try this again?"

He chuckled. "Sure. We can't do that much worse on the second go-round, can we?"

"According to my friends across the lake, we can, but," she shrugged, her smile sheepish. "No reason not to try. Devi Hassan." She stuck out her hand, and he laughed out loud.

"Hercules Hansen." Hoping to hang onto their rediscovered good humor, he said quickly, "My partner's sleeping in, but I'll have a chat with him before I introduce you again. He'll behave."

The elder Hassan was quiet for several long moments as Indra demonstrated a new trick – bouncing the ball in sharp, high shots off the ground to see if Max could anticipate where it would land. Then Susanti threw the ball and both Indra and the dog chased it, and Chuck's laughter floated through the air. _That sound_ …

"Sorry. I shouldn't have blamed you for him," said Devi. "I know how it goes. Fightmaster Tessori tells me there are so many blood relatives making the cut now that they're adding a course: How Not To Brain Your Damn Brat Sibling 101."

Hmm. Making Hansens laugh seemed to be a Hassan family skill along with piloting a Jaeger. Herc wouldn't have predicted that. "She seems all right."

"That's now, mate. Teen years? Ask Indra. Our parents were in despair; I'm still not sure how she got through undergrad. Every other day I was springing her from the lockup."

Well, maybe pretty Miss Susanti did have a wild side on the same scale as Herc's brother. He had to grin. "You got her through it, looks like. I'm still springing – well," _Shit, change the subject._ "Now you've met the worst-kept secret at the Sydney Shatterdome. He's fourteen next month. God help me when he starts driving."

"Any other boys his age on-base? Joy-riding a car, we can manage. Joy-riding a Jaeger could pose a problem."

Herc laughed. "Don't give him ideas. There's a few in their teens, but more competitive than friendly. They're all lining up for Academy already. Wait until you bring Vulcan to base – their minder bribes 'em with getting to stand around the rope line."

"Is that safe?!"

He nodded. "We had to lock 'em out for a few months while we checked the radiation levels, but Lucky's one of the few Mark Is that stayed in the safety band. Still got extra shielding installed, and everyone takes metharocin – the kids have a whole regimen to live on-base."

He didn't mention Stacker and Tamsin or Duc and Kaori. Class of 2016, Devi Hassan might have had one or more of them as an instructor; it wasn't his place to pass that around.

By the time Devi's sister and cousin had finally run Max and Chuck's energy levels down, it was looking wintry and rainy again. Chuck didn't even sulk when they shooed him inside, though he had to coax the sleepy Max along. Herc decided to let sleeping Scotts lie gestured to the Kwoon once he'd seen Chuck back to quarters. "You're off to the states for a few days tomorrow, right? Fancy a spar first?"

They took him up on it. Indra even stood in for his left-hand, and obviously knew the Bushido as well as his cousins did. For the first time since Team Vulcan had arrived in Sydney, Herc thought maybe they could make this work.

* * *

But first, dealing with the final player on their four-man (four _person_ , he corrected himself with a grin) team. He waited until Scott was up and moving and in a reasonably receptive mood, then hauled him outside for a chat. "I had a good spar with our teammates this morning."

"Eh? Good or _good?_ " Scott leered, as Herc knew he would.

Herc slapped his face. It was a pretty casual, light slap, but Scott still sputtered. "Watch your mouth. This stops, now."

"What the – who're you, Tyrion Lannister?!"

Herc bared his teeth. He'd meant it more as a stand-in for an offended lady in ladylike fashion, but... "Now that you mention it..." He slapped Scott again and laughed at the sputtering. "I'll be the uncle today, brat. We've got a job to do, and a Shatterdome full of fellow officers, and from now on, every bloody one of them gets your respect whether you mean it or not."

"You can't just - " Scott caught himself and ducked the next swat. "Oy! That wasn't - OW!" Herc grabbed him by the ear and laughed harder. They were probably getting some weird looks from the MPs, but it couldn't be helped. "Geroff! What's up your ass, Herc, it's not my fault those prissy bitches - "

Herc shoved him against the wall and slapped him just a little harder, losing some of the playfulness. Scott saw it, and they locked eyes. "I _said..._ this stops," Herc repeated, lowering his voice. "They're _Rangers_ , they're _officers,_ you refer to them as such, and the same with every other man and woman in the Corps, and I don't fucking care how much you want in their pants. Personnel are off-limits as of right fucking now!"

From the way Scott's jaw was working, Herc braced himself for switching from slaps over to punches, because he could imagine the bullshit that was about to come out of his brother's mouth. Why couldn't the birds take a joke? They were the ones turning up their snooty noses, and when had Herc turned into Miss Manners?

But Scott held it back and settled for a melodramatic sigh. "Allll right, Uncle, I'll play nice with the other children."

Herc patted his cheek instead. "Good boy. They're off to Alaska for the Mark-3 launch, but before they go, we're drilling with them again. We keep our eyes on the job." Scott pouted, and he rolled his eyes. "I know you're capable of being subtle when you want to. You don't touch outside of sparring, and keep your looking discrete. Besides, she's too young for you."

"Susanti? She's, what, twenty-one? Come on, that's legal!"

_For the love of -_ "She's twenty-five, you bloody creepster!" He swatted his brother upside the head. "And for your information, you're _not_ her type - at all. She doesn't go for men!"

"Ahhhrgh!" Scott's forehead dropped into his palm. "Why are all the hot ones on the other bus?!"

Herc had to laugh at him. "There are plenty of hot Jaeger Flies out there, and if you really go for twenty-one-year-olds, that's your problem. But if you want a respectable woman, try introducing yourself to her hand, not her tits."

He was a little anxious when the crews gathered for morning drills before the Hassans caught their plane back across the lake. But to his intense relief, the favorable reports starting to come in about the other teams' improvement stirred Scott's competitive spirit, so he was focused on hitting the goals set out by the Marshalls and Fightmasters, rather than hitting _on_ their teammates.

Devi and Susanti were wary every time they had to be in arm's reach of him, but seeing Herc's watchful gaze and Scott's renewed attention on the actual fight, they gradually relaxed. However, Devi deviated from Bushido positions in her first one-on-one hanbo spar with him, and stopped the end of the staff below the stomach - aimed directly at Scott's balls.

There was no mistaking the warning in her eyes: _Step out of line again, and next time she'll "slip." Little sister could do it too. And I will laugh my ass off._

However disgruntled Scott was each time he was bested by "a couple of Indonesian birds," even he and Ketteridge had to admit the Hassans were a damn good pair.

They could do this job.

_**To be continued...** _

_**Coming Soon:** _ _Chuck's POV as he and the other Shatterdome kids witness Lucky Seven and Vulcan Specter going into their first battle against a kaiju. In the aftermath, Herc and Scott face their first experience with drift shock in_ _**Chapter Eight: Just Another Day at the Office!** _

**PLEASE don't forget to review!**

**Original Character Guide**

Marshall Blake Ketteridge: Commanding Officer of Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force.

Devi and Susanti Hassan: Indonesian-Australian sisters, ages 27 and 25, who graduated the Academy along with Raleigh and Yancy Becket and Tendo Choi in the second half of 2016.

Indra Hassan: Devi and Susanti's cousin, age 37, failed the Jaeger Academy's second cut for drift compatibility but stayed on to become a LOCCENT technician. He serves the same role on Vulcan Specter's crew that Tendo Choi does for Gipsy Danger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** _ _Chuck's POV as he and the other Shatterdome kids witness Lucky Seven and Vulcan Specter going into their first battle against a kaiju. In the aftermath, Herc and Scott face their first experience with drift shock in_ _**Chapter Eight: Just Another Day at the Office!** _
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Marshall Blake Ketteridge: Commanding Officer of Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force.
> 
> Devi and Susanti Hassan: Indonesian-Australian sisters, ages 27 and 25, who graduated the Academy along with Raleigh and Yancy Becket and Tendo Choi in the second half of 2016.
> 
> Indra Hassan: Devi and Susanti's cousin, age 37, failed the Jaeger Academy's second cut for drift compatibility but stayed on to become a LOCCENT technician. He serves the same role on Vulcan Specter's crew that Tendo Choi does for Gipsy Danger.


	8. Just Another Day at the Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck and the other Shatterdome kids witness Lucky Seven and Vulcan Specter going into their first battle against a kaiju. In the aftermath, Herc and Scott face their first experience with drift shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** FYI, readers, because work is so consistently busy, I'm going to be updating every two weeks now instead of every week. This will give me the chance to keep ahead of the chapters so the updates stay regular. Thank you all for your patience and continued feedback!_
> 
> _**Semi-Disclaimer:** Writing from the POV of Herc, Scott, and Chuck, male characters in a military setting full of military attitudes, necessitates holding my nose sometimes. All three use language and reflect attitudes that aren't ideal - especially when it comes to women - but I just don't think it's realistic or in-character for these three to be too progressive. Some of our male heroes will learn better over time, others... not so much._

**Chapter Eight: Just Another Day At The Office**

_Sydney Shatterdome  
January 19, 2018…_

Three months and two days after Yamarashi initiated Team Vulcan's classmates, Ningyo came out of the Breach and headed southwest – towards Australia.

Up until then, the minders in family housing had relaxed their rules against letting the Shatterdome kids watch the live broadcasts of the engagements, but when Lucky Seven and Vulcan Specter were both deployed, they tried to enforce it again.

There was a mutiny, led by Chuck Hansen and Danny Oliver. A bit ironic, or maybe not – Dan's dad was a pilot too, and now flew one of Lucky's spotters. His older sister'd followed in her Dad's footsteps and died of radiation after Sydney.

"So we can watch when our dads are safe at home, but we can't know for bloody hours when they're the ones fighting? You really think that's better?!" Chuck roared as the minders tried to disable the screens.

"Send the little kids out somewhere! He's fourteen and I'm almost sixteen – we're fucking old enough to know what's going on!" Danny bellowed. When they were all hauled on the carpet later, maybe Chuck could point out that Danny'd cussed first.

"This is such bloody bullshit! We KNOW there's a kaiju coming in!" Okay, one of the girls was cussing too. That helped. "You're not sheltering us from anything!"

It was Mrs. Taior who switched sides first. Chuck wasn't that surprised; the old Aboriginal lady seemed to get it a lot better than the pompous teacher or the overworked doctor who shared the babysitting duties. She didn't pat Chuck on the head and dribble that it would all be all right, didn't insult his intelligence by lying when all he had to do was log onto the Internet (with or without kiddie blockers on) to know just how incredibly not all right the world was. While Dad and Scott and her daughter – her last daughter – were in Alaska, she'd answered Chuck's questions and didn't try to get him to talk if he didn't want to.

The younger kids were starting to wail in chorus. Chuck doubted any of them really had a clue what was going on, but were just pitching a fit because everyone else was yelling. At least it added to the pressure on the adults.

Mrs. Taior shot him a _look,_ knowing he wasn't going to give in, and pushed through the crowding kids to take his elbow and jerked her head to summon Danny and the other teens. "You take the little ones, occupy them," she told the other adults. "These five can come with me."

The harried old medic looked ready to relent, but Miss Morton pursed her lips and huffed, "Maybe if we call Ranger Hansen, he'll - "

Danny sucked in his breath, and the three girls started yelling as Chuck's fists clenched.

"Are you joking?! You want to bother the bloody pilots because you're scared of this punk?" snapped Kirsten, the seventeen-year-old.

All pretentious manners and make-up and too good for Chuck _or_ his uncle and dad, Kirsten Blaine didn't like Chuck and Chuck didn't like her, but at the moment, she was all right. Because she'd made the point more than he could - how could that stupid cow even think of nagging Herc and Scott Hansen mid-deployment over Chuck's television privileges?

"The base is on alert," Mrs. Taior confirmed, glaring at Morton. "Unless the kaiju comes through the doors, we don't contact anyone on-duty. Come on!" Without waiting for further argument, she headed for the door (and still looked more sure of herself with her bent back and her cane than the teacher half her age). Chuck and the other "older kids" hurried after her.

In Mrs. Taior's quarters that she shared with her daughter, Lucky Seven's Chief Engineer, the old woman fixed the five teens with a hard stare. "So, you think you're old enough to watch this in real-time like the duty crew?" Folding his arms, Chuck nodded, and saw the others following suit on the edges of his vision. "We'll see." She locked the door behind them and tossed the key somewhere into her bedroom. "I hope you lot have prepared yourselves, because you're about to discover what it really means to be grown-ups: watching blood and death and people you love in danger, and there's not a damn thing you can do. You stay in here and you don't leave, don't bother anyone else in the Dome during the alert, no matter how bad it gets. Understood?"

Chuck just nodded again, trying to keep his face hard despite the cold knot forming in his stomach.

The three girls chattered on and off, which annoyed Chuck, but Mrs. Taior prodded him with the end of her cane when he turned to tell them to shut up. Since she had let them see what was happening, he bit his tongue. She was one of the few people who could get him to do that.

"Are both our Jaegers being deployed?" Kirsten always turned up her nose at everyone who watched the mechs drilling and read the protocols. Now she was in the dark.

"They were both at pre-dep. It depends on how far south the kaiju goes," said Sarla Johar, the youngest of the "older kids." She wanted to be a Ranger too. When she went all breathless enthusiasm, she was really annoying, but at the moment, she wasn't so bad. And close to his size, she could spar with him when he practiced Jaeger Bushido.

Mrs. Taior either hadn't tuned into or didn't have access to the PPDC's LOCCENT channel that Chuck could sometimes see when his father and uncle were home. All the regular media knew was that there'd been movement in the Breach and all the Eastern Hemisphere Shatterdomes were getting ready for deployment. To Chuck's relief, the drivel of the reporters were muted, so they could just watch the images from the cameras outside the Domes, showing mech after mech being scrambled out on to their grounds.

The kaiju, codenamed Ningyo, was playing connect-the-dots with the Western Pacific islands, leaving a path of destruction across Guam, then Yap, then Palau. Horizon Brave tried to make the intercept off one of the less-inhabited islands, but their Category III fish didn't bite, and the sonar detected him veering towards the Philippines.

This was it. It was going to be Dad and Scott. Chuck could feel the others' eyes on him and sat rigid, jaw clenched, refusing to show anything inside as the Filipino media broadcast images of Lucky Seven landing at the mouth of the Davao Gulf.

Sarla actually put a hand on his shoulder; he jerked away from her, and saw Mrs. Taior tug her aside from the corner of his eye. _Keep your hands to yourself. I don't want your sympathy or your pats on the head._

But he wished he'd had the forethought to bring Max with him.

Vulcan Specter was airlifted from the northern Indonesian islands where he'd been stationed to be back-up for Lucky. Kirsten squeaked as the Jaeger sank out of sight in the center of the gulf as soon as the jump hawks released him. "What're they doing?!"

"They're all airtight," Mrs. Taior told her. "The Rangers have been training for underwater fights."

"Vulcan's designed for that. He's got engines and turbines to move him in any direction underwater," added Sarla eagerly. "That's where the name comes from: he floats like a ghost, but his weapons look like an underwater volcano."

Only an electronic tag on the screen marked where the kaiju was deep in the water approaching the mouth of the gulf that would lead it to a region of millions of people. The news stations had split their screens to show one visible Jaeger in the water, the position of the approaching kaiju, and the chaos of the evacuation, rush to shelter on shore.

Danny muttered, "Can you turn the sound back on? They might say something useful now."

Mrs. Taior did. _"The bunkers in Davao City can only accommodate a small portion of the people in the danger zone, and most of them are already full. The public is being urged to get out of the urban area by any means necessary and move to higher ground!_ "

People were flooding the streets, dodging around immobilized cars and trying to navigate the chaos on bikes. Kirsten started to cry, and Chuck glanced around without thinking and saw the middle girl, Lindsay, roll her eyes. Even Sarla was looking annoyed, though Mrs. Taior was patting Kirsten's back.

_What's the matter? Haven't we seen this happen enough times to get used to it?_ Yeah, maybe it sent a nasty tingle up and down his back, twisting around his guts with memories of car horns and screams and sirens in 2014, but he still had a grip on himself. So did Sarla, the youngest, and she'd lost both of her parents. What was Kirsten's excuse for whimpering other than to get attention?

The first shots of the engagement itself weren't visible to the TV choppers. It was anticlimactic at first, just the flat image of the water and a breathless reporter announcing, " _Vulcan Specter has made contact with the kaiju!"_

First, nothing... then the water churned up beyond the chop of winter waves, and then - Chuck could tell where Vulcan's name had come from too. Fire and red and gray surface and the ugly, muddy gray-green of kaiju hide exploded to the air in foam and unnatural bright blue. Lucky Seven was already aiming her guns, and opened fire even though Chuck couldn't guess where the kaiju ended and the Mark-3 Jaeger began.

_"Dios mio!_ " shouted one of the broadcasters.

Ningyo was between Vulcan and Lucky as the Mark-1 - _that's my dad! That's my dad and my uncle! -_ surged through the shallows with the first of her mid-range weapons armed.

Even in the chaos of churning water and foam, smoke, and Kaiju Blue, Chuck knew every one the minute he saw it.

The _woomera_ , modeled after the Aboriginal spearthrowers. Then the projectile canon that shot smaller electromagnetic homing devices to bury themselves deep in the kaiju's dense flesh and serve as a draw for the other weapons, especially when visibility was low. Scott and Dad called it Tiffany, because all the "cannonballs" were coated in diamond. (A lot of the blades and projectiles used against the kaiju were carbon-coated, but these things actually twinkled in the sun.)

Everyone loved watching it in tests, but Chuck saw it now in action. The handles of the spears served as convenient handholds for Vulcan, and the kaiju lurched and roared as the "cannonballs" buried themselves in its torso.

Lucky's fists could form into spiked, electrified club heads that sizzled with every blow. Once the Jaeger and the kaiju were fighting hand-to-hand, sometimes all Chuck could make out were the sparks that burst through the foam and smoke.

Vulcan's fists could detach altogether to become "meteor hammer" weapons on chains - heavy enough to be powerful underwater and still reeled back in for another blow. His chief incendiary was "lava" - actually a modernized, refined version of napalm, scalding gel that would stick to the target even in full immersion and keep on burning at temperatures as hot as its namesake. It could be fired in projectile balls or a stream from Vulcan's arms like a flamethrower.

Time lost all meaning for Chuck as the fight raged through the water. Sometimes the action was visible in the shallows, other times both Jaegers and the kaiju were out of sight with only the churning water to mark their location. Chuck sat with his arms locked around his knees and didn't move, didn't turn his head. He didn't want to look at anyone else in the room, or worse, see them looking at him.

That was his father and his uncle in there, in Lucky's immense head. If one of the kaiju's claws reached the pod - or the Kaiju Blue got to them, or all the force in it came behind one of its swipes that left dents in the Jaegers' armor... Chuck was breathing harder.

Those stupid reporters couldn't make out anything that was going on. All they could do was gibber when they saw one of the Jaegers (or the kaiju) land a hit.

It might have been hours or maybe just minutes, but Ningyo scrambled out of the water onto a string of islets, all his attempts at flight underwater thwarted by Vulcan. There, Lucky pinned him and tore out some of the spears still visible in his torso, then ripped into him as he writhed and roared. Vulcan came surging out of the water to join them, and Lucky wrenched the kaiju's head back so it couldn't shield its wounds. Vulcan crammed one arm into the monster up to the elbow and unleashed his lava thrower deep into its flesh. Chuck found himself grinning as smoke and blue gushed from Ningyo's mouth, and Lucky let it go to flop motionless onto the sand.

_"That's confirmed! The PPDC is confirming the kaiju is destroyed! A glorious victory for the Jaegers Vulcan Specter and Lucky Seven of Australia!"_

_My dad. That's my dad._

The television screens split again to show the streets of Davao City and the surrounding towns erupting into celebration, people running toward the beach now, arms in the air, waving and cheering the Jaegers. Vulcan and Lucky turned away from the kaiju carcass and went marching side-by-side down the narrow islands, then raised their arms to the throngs. Vulcan's right arm was still smoking, parts of his hand deformed from emptying his lava reserves in such close quarters. Lucky's left side had some deep dents in the torso, and there were black streaks on her right shoulder and upper arm.

But if both Jaegers could raise both arms and walk, then all four pilots were all right.

He hadn't noticed Mrs. Taior getting up, but she was at the table now, logged onto the network. When he turned and looked at her, suddenly aware of the other kids clapping and hugging, she looked at him and smiled. "The Rangers have checked in. Just a few scrapes and bruises. And no casualties among the strike troopers," she added to Danny.

Chuck shocked himself by turning and grinning at the other boy before he even knew what he was doing. No less shocking was that Danny Oliver grinned back. Well... it didn't mean they were friends, but they could both be glad their dads were okay. That just made sense. The whole world was celebrating. Why shouldn't they be happy too?

* * *

_Davao City, Phillippines…_

Once the adrenaline started to slack off, Herc's face stung like he'd been kissing a jellyfish. He hissed and spat out a curse as he stumbled out of the rig. "You okay?!" Scott exclaimed.

Trying to feel it just got him pawing like a moron at the front of his helmet... now that he checked, he could feel it under his suit too, from the neck down to his shoulder. "I think that's a bit more than circuitry burns," he grunted, flexing his fingers. "Not too bad, but stings like a bitch."

"Lemme see - oww! You got a shock, brother, I can see it! Careful climbing out."

They struggled out of the escape hatch in their gear to await chopper pickup, checking for the Hassans on top of Vulcan. One of the women looked like she was having some trouble standing up straight; he couldn't tell which from where he was. Collapsing onto the floor of their rescue chopper, Herc grunted, "You two all right?"

"Yeah... I think I might've cracked a rib," said Suze. "Not too bad - shit, Herc, what happened to your face?"

"Something shorted when we were underwater," he mused, recalling a flash of pain that hadn't come directly from Ningyo's teeth or claws, and the sparks on the edges of his vision.

Their R&R commander called back to them. "Davao City Hospital's standing by."

Herc was trying not to scream, puke, or black out as the crew worked him out of his gear, so Scott spoke for him. They were both still tapped in to each other's head. "What about Sydney?" his brother asked wearily. "How soon can we be back?"

Startled, one of their EMTs protested, "That's a seven-hour flight. We have to stop, get you looked over."

On the other side of Scott, Devi Hassan gave Herc a tired, knowing smile. "We've got someone waiting for them back at our Dome. Let's not take too long."

The R&R crews muttered to each other, then their pilot - Greg Oliver, who also had a boy waiting at home - shot a quick grin over his shoulder. "I think we can work something out. We haven't got the fuel to make Sydney in one hop, but by the time the medics clear you, we'll have something better at the airport."

It wound up being an overnight stay at the hospital. Apart from those damn stinging burns, Herc thought he and Scott were fine... until drift shock really set in.

Just a little tired, a little... light-headed – but then the next thing he knew, the doors were open, cold air was blowing in, and Scott wasn't next to him anymore.

"Wait - " _Scott!_ "Wait - where's - "

_Herc..._ "Let go - "

"Just a second, we're - "

"Hey, what're you doing?!" one of the girls exclaimed. "You don't separate the pilots! DEV! Get OFF!"

Herc went staggering from the chopper, feeling drunk, burned, and disoriented, but only able to focus on the gap at his side, the presence he could still feel, but not close enough. There was a scuffle nearby, and then he and Scott collided, staggering into each other and plummeting back to earth.

Okay... it was okay...

There were figures on either side of them, practically pushing them together, smaller, but wearing circuitry suits also, smelling of sweat and grease and blood too - Devi and Susanti on one side, their EMTs on the other, physically barring their tormentors' paths.

"His burns must be examined in the - "

"Rangers stay together, Doctor, I bloody told you!" yelled one of their crew. "I don't fucking care what your protocols are!"

Mindless of the throbbing burns and an ache in his ribs, Herc wrapped his right arm around his brother and felt Scott's around him, pulling each other tight enough for a three-legged race. On his left, Devi and Susanti were wrapped around each other too, not walking much more steadily than he was. "You all right?" Devi breathed, releasing her sister with one hand to touch Herc's arm.

"I think so. Damn." Herc wasn't one for losing it even in the chaos of a fight gone wrong, but he'd been on the edge of panic just because Scott wasn't right beside him.

_Wasn't just you,_ came the dazed observation from his brother's head, only slightly less clear than in the full handshake. _Jesus. I know about ghost drifting, but, hell!_

_We're all right._ "We're all right," he muttered, pretending for anyone listening that he was trying to reassure Devi and Susanti. He and Scott knew better. Hell, the girls probably knew better too.

But with their drop crews hovering like bodyguards, the doctors made the situation work and wove around and between the four dazed pilots, no longer trying to demand that Herc be hauled over to the burn unit. He still keenly felt his brother fidgeting on the other side of the glass when he went through X-rays. It took all his restraint not to shove past everyone back through the door just to get a hand on Scott's arm when they were done.

A part of him was mortified; this was ridiculous, he was a grown man, a military officer and a Ranger, not some skittish kid who needed a hand to hold.

But the much-larger part of him just couldn't fucking deny it: he did. He needed Scott's hand or he was going to lose it.

Then there was Chuck. He wanted to see his boy, and they were wasting time in this damn place. That frustration flowed back and forth between them until neither could be sure where it originated - but it didn't really matter. That kid was the driving force behind so much of this - not just to save the world and protect him, but thinking it would all end up being worth something.

Chuck's face hovered in the back of their minds in the drift, maybe more of Herc, but shared by them both and it didn't matter who was dad and who was uncle, because they both loved the kid. The last vestige of anything beautiful in this stinking, ugly world; he'd hate knowing that, but it didn't matter.

They were pretty well drifting now, and Herc fought to focus out of the haze and found them in a shared room. "Hey, wha' happened? Need to get home."

Where had the crew gone?

"We've insisted on keeping you overnight, Ranger Hansen. The Philippines won't risk anything happening to their saviors. Don't worry, we've told Sydney all four of you are in good condition, and the medication will help you sleep."

"Wait! No!" They were both trying to get up, but some idiot had tranked them without asking first, and neither made it very far.

Herc tried to wrench free but couldn't do that without letting go of his brother. "You don' understand, my son..."

Then they both drifted into darkness.

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** _ _Our heroes deal with meddlesome medics in the Philippines and fallout back at the Shatterdome, and the Hassans' POV of Hansen family angst in_ _**Chapter Nine: The Prime Directive and Other Rules Nobody Follows!** _
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> ** Original Character Guide **
> 
> Devi and Susanti Hassan: Indonesian-Australian sisters, ages 27 and 25, who graduated the Academy along with Raleigh and Yancy Becket and Tendo Choi in the second half of 2016.
> 
> Marian Taior: An elderly Aboriginal woman who lost four of her five children and all of her grandchildren in Sydney. She served as Chuck's guardian while Herc and Scott are training in Anchorage, and now assists with Sydney Shatterdome's childcare.
> 
> Daniel (Danny) Oliver: A classmate of Chuck's, age 15, son of one of Herc's fellow helicopter pilots, Greg. His grandparents were killed in Scissure's attack, and his elder sister, Karina, died of radiation poisoning at age 19 in the aftermath. He and Chuck have a lot in common, but lack the maturity to empathize at this stage in their lives. Both boys dream of joining the Jaeger Program as pilots.
> 
> Kirsten Blaine: The oldest teen in family housing, age 17, a New Zealander who resents having to move to Sydney so her parents could work in the Jaeger Program. One of the only kids in the Shatterdome uninterested in the Jaegers or the Jaeger Academy.
> 
> Sarla Johar: The youngest teen in family housing, Indian-Australian, age 13, orphaned by Scissure and adopted by her aunt, who is on Lucky Seven's crew. Like Chuck, she's already studying and training with dreams of attending the Jaeger Academy.
> 
> Lindsay Katz: Age 14, closest in age to Chuck, born in South Africa to a mixed-race family that moved to Australia to escape racial tension when she was 6. Her father is an engineer who joined the PPDC after Scissure killed her mother and multiple family members.
> 
> Olivia Morton: A newly-licensed teacher hired to manage the children of Sydney Shatterdome's family housing. Late 20s, with several degrees but little practical experience, she views the world in black and white when the kaiju have already turned many things gray.
> 
> Greg Oliver: Herc's comrade and fellow chopper pilot from before K-Day, now a support pilot for Lucky Seven. Like Herc, he moved his displaced family to Richmond Air Base, then to the Sydney Shatterdome and joined the Jaeger Program in the wake of Scissure. He lost his parents in the attack, and his oldest daughter, Karina.


	9. The Prime Directive and Other Rules Nobody Follows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes deal with meddlesome medics in the Philippines and fallout back at the Shatterdome, where Chuck's anger over his dad's absence leaves Herc's colleagues with a dilemma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** Many thanks to everyone for all the reviews, questions, and constructive criticism! Please keep it all coming! In case you can't tell, the first scene of this chapter is a dream/flashback sequence, namely Herc's memory of his conversation with Stacker in Chapter 6._

**Chapter Nine: The Prime Directive and Other Rules Nobody Follows**

_January 20, 2018…  
Davao City, Philippines…_

_Herc fought to hold back a grin at the consternation on Stacker Pentecost's face over the video feed. "You have any idea what you're doing, 'Marshall?'"_

_The newly-minted C.O. of the Academy shot him a droll look. "Not a bloody clue. But she's in an orphanage over there. I... I can't leave her that way. She needs a guardian."_

_"Will you keep her with you on-base, then? I know Tanisha Davis's boy is in school."_

_"I... haven't decided. I've hired a child therapist to work with us for the first few months. I'm meeting her before I leave. Ranger Davis's son isn't on-base, but he's there in Los Angeles with her mother. Peter Lepp's daughter is in a boarding school in Germany."_

_"Good God, I didn't know Lepp had a kid. How old is she?"_

_"Six. I know I don't have to tell you to keep that to yourself."_

_Herc shook his head. Most of his fellow Rangers knew about Chuck, and he wouldn't complain if they talked among themselves - especially the way he and Pentecost were, sharing advice. He wasn't sure whether he thought Lepp was the cold one or the decent one, sending his child so far._

_It was embarrassing how little he could tell Stacker about child-rearing. How little Herc Hansen knew about his own boy. But if Stacker trusted him enough to admit he needed advice, then Herc would confide what he did know. "I doubt you'll find much in common between Chuck and your girl apart from a kaiju ripping apart their home and killing their families." Impressive. He'd said that with a straight face and a completely clear voice. "Even then... there's a few girls on-base here. The boys fight, the girls... some fight, some cry all the time, from what I've seen. Not that I bloody blame 'em for either."_

_After the call ended, wondering if he'd done Stacker much good, Herc went to Chuck's room. The boy seemed to have gotten past the violent nightmares of the first year since Scissure, and then the long stretches of sleeplessness. Now he was a heavy sleeper, and it took a deployment drill klaxon to get him awake._

_So Herc could look in on him without being discovered. Sometimes he could even put a hand on the kid's head without getting a twitch out of him. He did now, just to reassure himself that Chuck was really there._

_Herc's own nightmares about Angela were bad enough, coming to his own bed to find himself back in their room at the house in Sydney, running to join her only to have her disappear._

_The worst ones, though, were the ones where he saw his boy vanish. He ran and ran through the Shatterdome, through the wreckage of Sydney, but he never found Chuck. And there was nothing left._

_"NO - "_

_I want my boy... let me go, I have to get to him, can't leave him... that's my son, Chuck, I need my son..._

* * *

_January 21, 2018…  
Davao City, Philippines…_

Devi had no idea what time it was when she woke up. The sky was light, but this close to the equator, the days would be shorter... or were they back in the Northern Hemisphere? She rubbed her eyes and wondered what had awakened her and not Susanti. Suze was the lighter sleeper.

Being here had made her a little nervous; it was obvious that the facility and most of its staff were very, very Catholic. There'd been some controversy about a Muslim team being given control of a Jaeger. Most people who had a problem with it didn't care that Muslims varied as much as Christians, or that the Hassans were slightly less devout than the average lapsed Catholic. They observed (loosely) the major holidays and kept a few traditions for births, weddings and funerals. Devi and Susanti had long since recognized the futility in trying to explain themselves to the bigots of the world.

The Catholics of the Philippines were more conservative than anyone in the Hassans' acquaintance (Christian _or_ Muslim) - at least at this hospital. So here Devi and Susanti were, in the "women's wing" of the hospital.

She was relieved to find that one of their spotters had stayed, snoozing in a chair next to their bed. Erin Riley blinked awake and smiled at her. "Hey, my new killstamp-wearing Ranger! Feeling better?"

Devi nodded, though she wasn't ready to get up and let go of her sister yet. "Any word on the guys?"

Standing up and stretching, Erin said, "I'll ask someone to look in on them in the 'gentlemen's ward.'" She rolled her eyes expressively, and Devi snorted. Good thing Suze had been mellow from the painkillers for their bruised ribs, or she might've started an argument last night. Susanti Hassan's feminism - and just about every other viewpoint she had - was a good deal more militant than her older sister's.

Suze woke up slowly, and Devi grinned to herself. Her younger sister also liked to give her grief for not being able to stay awake past ten p.m., but on the other hand, it took a kaiju siren to wake Suze up before noon on any given day. Even after combat last night, Devi had been asleep long before her sister, though she had a feeling that Suze hadn't gone anywhere. Somehow she knew Suze's absence would have woken her up.

_We killed a kaiju, my little sister and me. We fought one of those stinking monsters, kept it from going into land. We won this fight._

Vulcan Specter and Lucky Seven. Devi still had no love lost for the left hemisphere of their senior Jaeger, but she had to admit he was one hell of a fighter, and he and Herc had pulled their weight yesterday. Australia's two teams were good together, far better than they'd be alone, and Devi had her doubts whether they'd have come through that fight with only minor injuries otherwise.

She reached across Suze to grab the tablet by the bedside, and found a picture of herself - last night, asleep, already sent to half a dozen people. "You brat!"

"Wha'?" Suze mumbled, and Devi mercilessly poked her awake.

"I should take your picture right now, bed-head and sleepy face and all."

Suze stretched languidly, unconcerned with big sister's irritation. "'s your fault for being asleep when I was on the network. Raleigh wanted to know how you were. I talked to Indra too; he got the word out to the other side of the lake."

"Thanks." Devi stretched and experimentally felt out her ribs. Only a little sore, though she and her sister both had some colorful stains on their skin from more than just the drive suits. "Erin's gone to look in on the boys. I hope we can go home soon; Herc's got to want to get back to his nipper."

Just then, Erin came storming back in, eyes blazing, and both sisters sat up. "What's wrong?!" Suze demanded.

"Our gracious hosts seem to be confused about the difference between treatment and kidnapping," Erin hissed. "You know Herc and Scott wanted to be out and back to Sydney last night? Well, the damn resident didn't 'change their minds' - he just doped them without permission!"

"What the - " Both Hassans were out of bed in an explosion of blankets. "Find us some clothes and get on the comm to Sydney!" Devi ordered.

"Already on it."

Ketteridge was in a press conference, schmoozing with the presidents of Indonesia and the Philippines. So Devi and Susanti were the ones who stormed across the hospital to find their fellow Rangers and tear a strip off the doctors. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?!" Suze barged past the protesting orderlies and nurses to Herc and Scott's room with Devi at her heels. "Neither one of them had injuries warranting sedation."

"The PPDC's manual indicated sedation after combat - " protested a doctor.

" - That's _if_ the pilots are in distress, which they weren't!" Devi snapped, and shoved the door open.

Scott was still out cold, but Herc was tossing restlessly, clearly still under the influence of whatever he'd been drugged with. But when she got close enough to hear what he was mumbling, Devi's heart plummeted. _"Chuck... need to get to... my boy..._ "

Turning around, she was in full fight mode, never mind flight. "You had no business sedating these men," she growled, and the doctor seemed more intimidated by her than the louder Susanti.

Suze's fists were clenched as she glared at the nurses and the syringes in their hands. If they thought to take down the other half of this equation by force, they'd have a fight that no amount of hushing-up would keep out of the press.

To her intense relief, Erin had called for reinforcements, and half of Vulcan Specter and Lucky Seven's strike troopers were descending on the scene, making a bigger ruckus by the minute. Susanti jerked a thumb at a group of their crew. "Get us a lift out of here for as soon as they're awake. And _you_ ," Devi put a subtle hand on her arm as she pointed at the doctor. "You sign that fucking discharge, or we will see to it you become the most famous overreaching bumbler in the medical world."

He caved, and within a couple of hours, the four Rangers were on their way back to Sydney. Herc and Scott were still groggy, but under threat of dismemberment from the Jaeger crews, the doctors agreed there was no reason they had to be held back at the hospital.

"Apart from _someone's_ interest in parading them out onto the press platforms and getting bragging rights as treating physician," Suze muttered, half in Devi's ear, half in her head through the lingering ghost drift.

To their shared irritation, Marshall Ketteridge didn't seem nearly as outraged as they and the crews were about the physicians' actions - until someone specified that it had not been "the ladies" who were drugged, but the male Rangers. Then he huffed and puffed and promised to have a strongly-worded conversation with the President himself and blister a few ears among the PPDC liaisons to the medical facilities.

"That man doesn't even _try_ to pretend he's not a chauvinist," sighed one of Lucky's crew, giving the Hassans an apologetic wince.

Herc and Scott were just plain embarrassed once they were fully awake. "Shouldn't have let a bunch of damned assistants get the jump on us," Herc muttered.

"You had a few things on your minds," Devi pointed out. "We all did. We weren't expecting a bunch of doctors in the city we saved to take 'recommended treatment for Ranger distress' as the rule when we weren't _in_ distress! If we'd been more on top of it, we'd have all realized you wouldn't be put off leaving for Sydney that same night."

Herc sighed and stared out the window, his ears still red. Scott had been avoiding Devi and Susanti's eyes ever since the explanations were made. At length, Herc said quietly, "Thanks, Dev. For having our backs." He gave her a sheepish smile. "And I'm not talking 'bout the fight."

"I know you'd do the same for us." _Well, maybe not Scott, but_ you _would._

"Bet on it. No matter what the man in charge says. You're Rangers and officers, and the rest of the Corps had bloody well better remember that."

Devi grinned and reclined her chair. _So, it's not just the hot-headed young things who get outraged on behalf of the rest of us. Nice to know._ She'd read Raleigh and Yancy's furious screeds about the bullshit that was thrown at Yankee Star and Matador Fury. Stephanie Lanphier and Kennedy LaRue were just as easily provoked by the slurs and stereotypes.

She hadn't heard any opinions from the Hansens on those scores, and figured that Scott just didn't care and that Herc, as fair-minded as he seemed to be, was too worldly to be shocked and appalled.

Or maybe Herc simply had other priorities, namely a gangly teenager who seemed to get taller every time Devi saw him. Chuck Hansen didn't talk much, especially not to Devi and Susanti, but there was plenty of Dome gossip about him.

"That young man has a serious attitude problem," Olivia Morton had been heard to say, when word got around about another brawl in the daycare.

Indra had shot the family housing teacher a disgusted look. "They've _all_ got attitude problems. We're on the front lines of a war that's already wiped out half their home town and families." He had a soft spot for Chuck that Devi and Suze couldn't deny sharing.

* * *

_Sydney Shatterdome..._

As they landed back at the Dome late that night, more than twenty-four hours after the kill, Devi wondered how the kid would react to his father and uncle's homecoming. "You've got an overabundance of maternal instinct," Susanti told her. (As usual, Suze was a fine one to talk. She always smiled when she saw Chuck peeking into Vulcan's bay.)

The bitterness that Herc's son held towards him was obvious to anyone who was in their company for five minutes, and anybody who wasn't deaf knew the reason. "I had a grudge against my dad for years after we left Jakarta to join your folks in Brisbane," Indra pointed out. "And that was for plain old human unrest. What these kids have gone through? We can stand to be patient with them."

Devi chuckled. "I thought I remembered you being a bit more sullen when we were younger." Indra was nine years older than she was.

"Leaving home at age ten? Takes awhile to adjust in the best of circumstances." Indra grimaced as the triumphant Rangers were swamped by the Dome staff and families alike - with the _very_ obvious exception of Herc Hansen's son. Chuck hovered to the back of the mob and looked like he'd have stomped off if his minder didn't have a grip on him. "Uh-oh, someone's a bit peeved about the delay."

"That wasn't Herc's fault," Devi murmured. "He was pushing for us to leave right off; it was those idiot medics who held us up."

_"No,_ Dev." Suze caught her elbow. "We're not meddling in Herc's relationship with his kid. If Chuck wants to be mad at Dad, he'll find a reason, and nobody's going to reason him out of it. I promise you, Herc doesn't want or need our help."

Devi shot her a withering look. "You're quick enough to jump to Raleigh Becket's defense when you think Yancy overreaches."

"Raleigh's an adult and a Ranger," Indra muttered, putting a hand on each of their shoulders. Usually he came down on Devi's line of thinking. She sighed to herself.

Suze and Indra were right, of course. It was definitely not anybody else's place to defend Herc to Chuck or vice versa - and Herc Hansen would probably not welcome anything of the sort, however well-intentioned. _Down, Dev. Herc's not Yancy, and his son's not Raleigh or Lea Franklin._

She made herself pretend not to notice Chuck's expression, some mix of stubborn rage and abject misery. He disappeared as soon as his minder released him, practically sprinting out of the gathered crowd of personnel. Herc looked frustrated, Scott looked embarrassed and frazzled, and the two elder Rangers fled the Shatterdome festivities as soon as they could.

Devi joined the crews in steadfastly pretending everything was fine. _If his dad and uncle helping kill a kaiju didn't impress him, nothing I can do or say will help._

That was her mantra and she stuck to it... until late that evening when Team Lucky was out prowling, and Indra quietly got the word from their Chief Engineer that the kid had run off. "The MPs are ninety-nine percent sure he's still on-base, just hiding out in a sulk, but the Hansens are getting ticked. If you see him, page someone."

And it was Devi who got lucky, as some of her pun-happy friends (i.e. Tendo Choi) would say.

As the crews went over the preliminary damage reports and argued with the engineers over whether Lucky and Vulcan could be repaired in the Dome or in the Brisbane Assembly Facility, Vulcan's Rangers played chess with their handy Lego set and half-listened to the debating.

The problem with the Lego chess set was that if a piece got dropped, it could still roll off into piping and catwalks unknown. "Note to selves: order a magnetic set like the Beckets have," Devi groaned when she turned to weigh in on the damage discussions and sent her rook flying into a vent. "Damn."

"You lost him, you find him!" Suze ordered, having long since kicked off her boots and put her feet up.

That was the rule. "Yeah, yeah. See you next year." They'd actually dropped enough odds and ends in LOCCENT that she had a pretty good idea of where to look: one deck down. Her socks were going to be a mess, but she didn't feel like putting her shoes back on either.

When she found Max pawing at the rook like a cat outside one of Vulcan's empty equipment rooms in the corridor below LOCCENT, she knew she was in trouble. _So begins an incident because I can't mind my own bloody business._

**_To be continued..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Coming Soon:_ ** _Devi Hassan treads a fine line between her position as Herc's colleague and her desire to help a distressed teen, and Herc ponders how to respond to Chuck's disappearance in_ _**Chapter Ten: Blame Me For That** _ **_One._ **
> 
> **Please don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character** **Guide**
> 
> Devi and Susanti Hassan: Indonesian-Australian sisters, ages 28 and 26, who graduated the Academy along with Raleigh and Yancy Becket and Tendo Choi in the second half of 2016.
> 
> Indra Hassan: Devi and Susanti's cousin, age 37, failed the Jaeger Academy's second cut for drift compatibility but stayed on to become a LOCCENT technician. He serves the same role on Vulcan Specter's crew that Tendo Choi does for Gipsy Danger.
> 
> Marshall Blake Ketteridge: Commanding Officer of Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force.
> 
> Olivia Morton: A newly-licensed teacher hired to manage the children of Sydney Shatterdome's family housing. Late 20s, with several degrees but little practical experience, she views the world in black and white when the kaiju have already turned many things gray.
> 
> Erin Price Riley: One of Vulcan Specter's spotter pilots, age 28, African-American from Chicago, Illinois, married to an Australian engineer, Callum Riley.


	10. Blame Me For That One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Devi Hassan treads a fine line between her position as Herc's colleague and her desire to help a distressed teen, and Herc ponders how to respond to Chuck's disappearance. As the UN superiors and media swarm the Sydney Shatterdome in the wake of Lucky Seven and Vulcan Specter's triumph - Mako Mori is in the house! Stacker Pentecost pays a visit and brings along his young daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** _ _A perceptive reader observed that the last chapter was originally part of a larger one. So since I ended up with a little extra free time this weekend, here is the conclusion of that build-up! I was intrigued in the movie by how open Herc was with a near-stranger about his conflicts with his son and the struggle of raising him alone, so I decided to run with that.  
> _

**Chapter Ten: Blame Me For That One**

_January 22, 2018…  
Sydney Shatterdome…_

Either Devi's footsteps hadn't clunked on the metal floor like they usually would, or the occupant of the store room was too immersed in his own angst to hear anything. When she heard the sounds, she sighed... quietly.

_I wonder if I really was angling to sniff him out all along, skulking around the Dome in stocking feet after "losing a chess piece."_ Despite all her rational sensibilities warning that this was a bad, bad idea, she went into the dimly-lit room.

"Chuck?" she called softly.

The runaway Hansen recoiled so hard he almost smacked his head against a pipe along the wall. He really hadn't heard her coming, or expected anyone to find him here.

Adrenaline tingled in the ghost drift as Suze worked out what was happening. After hesitating only a moment, while Chuck Hansen was still waffling in fight-or-flight mode, Devi made up her mind. _Leave it alone. I'll see what I can do._ The ghost drift wasn't quite strong enough for full-on telepathy, over a day since they ended the last handshake, but the gist of it got through both ways.

If Suze were in physical earshot, she'd be heaving a dramatic sigh and saying, _on your head be it,_ but Devi's sister resigned to her elder's determination.

"Your dad's looking for you," Devi told the boy still crouched against the wall.

"I don't wanna go home." Chuck turned away from her, and she had to restrain herself from going towards him. He'd been missing long enough that Team Lucky had put the word out two hours ago. If he was still breaking down after hiding alone all this time, this was quite an episode.

Just a tantrum, some would say. The unsympathetic in the Shatterdome would mutter that Herc should just give the brat a hiding and yank him into line.

Devi wasn't so sure. _His mum's dead, now his dad and his uncle go out fighting the same monsters that killed her._

She remembered what Tendo had told them about Yancy breaking down after Raleigh was hurt in the fight with Yamarashi. And Yancy was one of the coolest heads she knew. All bets were off when it came to family being in danger, and Chuck Hansen was a little boy.

She sat down on a box, giving Chuck as much space as she could manage. "If you're running away, how're you planning on feeding Max?" That was definitely a Suze-ism, falling back on snark.

But snark did seem to work better on a fourteen-year-old than sympathy. The kid mopped his face and growled, "I'm not 'running away,' I'm not some stupid kid. I just wanna be left alone!"

"Yeah, I can understand that. Well, I can!" she insisted, in response to the skeptical look he gave her.

"I saw your launch in Brisbane. You and your sister've got a whole family. They were all there." Devi managed not to wince. Her mum and dad, Indra's parents, grandmum and half a dozen second cousins had all come out for launch, along with a slew of neighbors and friends they'd grown up with. To Chuck Hansen, the Hassans probably had it pretty good. _To anyone, by any reckoning, we have it good._ Whatever struggles she'd gone through at this kid's age were nothing but child's play compared to what he was living with.

"Still, we're a bit lacking in personal space around here. I get that. But time's up now."

"He's got the whole fucking Dome looking for me, hasn't he? As if he really gives a damn." _Ouch. Well, kids think that..._ "Were you out with them last night after the kill, living it up?"

"Who told you that?!" she snapped before she could catch herself. Was that really what the bloody rumor mill had made of the situation?!

But Chuck shrugged, scowling at the floor. "Where else does everyone go after they bag a kill? Scott's been saying he'd never have to buy a drink again, and _he_ won't say where they were!"

_Oh, shit. And this is the sort of mess we get into by meddling._ So Herc had made the executive _parent_ decision not to tell Chuck about spending the night in the hospital - and now Devi had painted herself into a corner. "I... I know you were worried, but... it's not for me to say."

The look she got in response was pure scorn. "You say you get it, but you're just gonna rat me out."

Now he sounded like Suze, ten years ago. Devi had been "the good girl" in the family, and had thought she understood all the trials of adolescence that might plague her sister, and had always thought "the right thing," meant keeping Suze on as tight a leash as possible. She'd kept their parents and teachers appraised of Susanti's every move, regardless of whether rules were actually being broken, without any notion that simple privacy was a right even for a teen girl.

Sometimes Devi was amazed that her sister had forgiven her, let alone come to trust her enough in adulthood that they could pilot a Jaeger. They'd both had to do some growing up to get to that point.

_So maybe there's hope for Herc and Chuck._ She pondered how to proceed without just dragging the kid out by the scruff of the neck - or alienating her fellow (senior) Ranger. As Max came trotting back into the room to nudge at his young owner, Devi said carefully, "I'll make you a deal. You and Max let me walk you home, since you can't be at large once your dad wants you in." She dug around the cabinets and found a clean rag and figured it would substitute for a hankie. "And I won't tell him how I stumbled across you or what you were doing - and that'll stay in force as long as you're not doing anything dangerous."

_In other words, I won't embarrass you by telling your dad I found you crying._ Chuck got the message. He turned scarlet but started wiping his face. He didn't exactly overflow with gratitude then, or when she let him detour to the nearest bathroom to wash up a little more, but he wasn't as petulant as he could have been walking back to family housing. He also didn't make a run for it. Maybe that was progress. _Depends on what I think I'm progressing towards._

She got a lot of _looks_ on the short walk to the family quarters from Team Lucky, Team Vulcan, and the Dome staff at large. Pretty much everyone they passed seemed to be thinking the same thing: _"What are you playing at, Hassan?_ "

Suze either sensed what was up or someone tipped her off, but she met them outside the Hansens' quarters. She was leaning against the wall at a safe distance when Scott opened the door and glared at his nephew. "Your dad's out looking for you. Get in here." For what it was worth, he did give Devi and Suze a nod and mutter of, "Thanks," that, for once, wasn't accompanied by a leering once-over.

Suze was as uncomfortable as he was, and all too eager to run for home once the door closed, and she grabbed Devi's elbow when they saw Herc coming down the hall looking ready to strangle someone. "Thank you," he growled, eyes promising a hiding when he got home.

_Dev, don't, Dev, don't –_

"Herc?"

Susanti's mental roar of frustration was like a kaiju in their ghost drift as Devi turned around. Everything about Herc Hansen's stance when he turned around was a warning; bloke was not in the mood for unsolicited advice or commentary. He looked a lot like his son had earlier, angry and hostile and ready to go off like a wild missile at any moment.

"What."

_Say goodnight and walk away, it's not your business, bloody back off..._ Devi wasn't actually sure if the warning in her head was her own mind or her sister's. But there'd been a kid crying in an empty room, and now she'd promised not to tell his dad that part. "Don't be too hard on him," she whispered.

To her surprise, Herc didn't explode. He just blinked, and he was still staring when Susanti practically yanked Devi off down the hall.

"For FUCK'S sake!" her sister exploded once they were in their own room. "Why did you want to be a Ranger?! Obviously social worker really is your bloody calling!"

"I wasn't trying to interfere," Devi mumbled.

"Bullshit. Other people's kids, other people's siblings, other people's friends, whether they want your help or not, you can't mind your own business, and now you're fucking around with one of the few allies we've got in this Dome."

"What're you talking about? Our crew's got our backs!" Devi snapped, rounding on her.

Suze folded her arms. "But the man in charge would just as soon feed us to a kaiju, and our senior team's left hemisphere would hold his coat while he did it. If Herc decides we're more trouble than we're worth, our crew won't be able to help us!"

"It's so easy for you to turn your back on people who need help, isn't it?"

Suze wasn't impressed. "Don't hand me that sap line. Chuck Hansen's not a _person_ to you."

"Excuse me?!"

"He's a fucking _project_. Just the latest pathetic dreg of humanity for Saint Devi to practice good works on." Nobody could land a deeper cut than Susanti. "Never mind that not many of your projects have ever _asked_ for your help, and when they ask you to stop, you just keep on going, fucking around with their lives and their relationships whether they like it or not! It's _for their own good_ , isn't it?"

Well, words were impossible, and now it came down to a choice between belting Suze or bursting into tears, and to Devi's embarrassment, she was leaning towards the latter. Anger and frustration and remorse seethed through the ghost drift.

After a long, heavy silence, Suze softened a little. "It's not a crime to care. But you can't save everyone, Dev."

"I'm not _trying_ to," Devi whispered. With her voice shaking like that, not even able to look her sister in the eye, she knew it wasn't very convincing. _I just thought he might need a friend._

Suze got the gist of it. "Sure, he probably does. But that can't be you, especially not if his dad's got a problem with it. We're Rangers. We've got a job to do, and we're Herc and Scott's teammates. Another time, another place, it wouldn't matter so much and you could go out on a limb for a troubled kid. But not here. We don't get to be ordinary people, like they told us at Academy."

Devi almost turned around and argued that Pentecost and the Psychs had been talking about conflict between drift partners. _That's splitting hairs and you know it._ Especially given the arm-twisting and wrangling that they'd had to go through just to work smoothly with Team Lucky.

_At least Scott seems to give a damn about his nephew, enough to be mad when he disappears._ But that was Team Lucky's concern - or rather, the Hansen family's. Not Devi Hassan's. She sighed. "You really think I'm such a megalomaniac, playing everyone like puppets?"

"You know I don't. You're in my head often enough. But you do have your bag of tricks, Sis, and it doesn't always go over well. Raleigh and I were talking about you and Yancy the other night."

Devi snorted. "Of course you were. Who better to talk smack about your elders?" Suze thumped her. Devi and Yancy gossiped about their left hemispheres often enough; there wasn't any high ground there for her, and they both knew it. "I always thought it was a gender thing when Yancy did it."

"Raleigh doesn't much appreciate it either, and I know you've agreed with him when you see Yancy meddling. If Raleigh wants help or advice, he can ask. The same goes for Herc..." Suze wrinkled her nose. "And I really don't think he will."

* * *

The next day, when Herc awkwardly tugged Devi aside after drills, he wondered why Susanti looked so shocked.

"My kid told me you were 'nice,'" Herc said in a clumsy attempt to explain why he'd be asking his fellow Ranger for advice. "He doesn't think much of most adults."

Relaxing from her initial alarm, Devi laughed nervously. "Well, that's standard teenager, isn't it? They approve of about half a percent of us geezers." She looked from Herc to Scott to her sister, then back to Herc again. "I'm… I'm sorry for… what I said the other night. I know it's not my place to give you advice."

Wonderful, she had his intentions completely backwards. "I'll take it where I can get it, especially if I know you're on my boy's good side somehow," he admitted.

Devi twisted her hands together as they walked, avoiding his gaze. A few days ago, they could have gone outside for a less oppressive atmosphere, but there were still swarms of paparazzi on the grounds. So he followed her up through the maze of corridors and catwalks to Vulcan's pod prep area and watched her pick up a Lego chess piece in the hall. "I don't know if I've got anything useful to tell you," she said. "The last teenagers I spent any time around were Ranger candidates. It's a bit different. Suze let me have it for telling you anything about how to deal with your own kid."

"Where'd you find him?"

"Here." She waved the chess piece absently. "He wasn't… into anything, if that's what you're worried about. I think he just wanted to get away. Suze was like that too, when she was younger."

Now he could tell she was dodging talking about Chuck, and it rankled. _I'm his father. I've got a right to know… don't I?_ "Did he tell you anything?"

"Mostly just to leave him alone. I told him I couldn't, but… gave him a choice. I could walk him back instead of just sounding the alarm."

Was that really all there'd been to it? Herc had been ready to throttle the kid after three hours of increasingly frantic searching. He and Scott had been betting on Chuck hiding out somewhere on the grounds or in one of the Dome's empty bays, not in Vulcan's section.

Maybe being found by one of the Hassans hadn't been an accident. Resentment at that thought warred with… something like hope. Chuck was docile around Marian Taior, and cautiously relaxed towards Kyrra, from what they told Herc – so long as there weren't other witnesses around. The kid enjoyed himself when the crews came to play with Max, but froze up if anyone addressed him directly too many times in a row.

Herc hadn't anticipated him softening up towards a younger woman, but that was probably a good sign. A sign of what exactly, he wasn't sure.

Devi Hassan didn't look or act anything like Angela. Angie'd been more outgoing, more like Susanti in demeanor, all strawberry blonde and fair skin and freckles, laughing green eyes. Suze Hassan with her curvy figure and black curls was rightly deemed one of the Jaeger Program's beauties, and still-darker, intense Devi was a handsome woman too, but neither one was a patch on Angela. _Or so said the widower, four years after the fact._

But this wasn't Herc looking for a replacement, and he needed to not think in those terms. If Chuck found something to admire in a couple of fellow Rangers, especially Herc's Dome-mates, there were far worse things.

Unnerved by his silence, Devi repeated, "He wasn't actually _doing_ anything. And if I ever saw him, you know, up to no good, I'd tell you straight away."

"Thanks." She cringed and looked away as if she expected him to be ticked about it. "He's pissed as hell at me," he admitted. "I should've called him first, after the fight, not left him hanging. I thought it'd be better to see him in person."

Devi frowned and asked, "Did you tell him you were in hospital?"

Herc shook his head. "Nah, no need for him to know the gritty details. Deployment's stressful enough as it is." He caught the doubtful look she cast, and for a minute, he thought she'd say more. But she didn't.

In the wake of Sydney's first kill, the United Nations brass came swarming onto the Shatterdome from all directions. Herc found himself a bit more apprehensive about this inspection then he ever had for similar ones before. Now he and his brother had a kill to their name and so did the Hassans, the first two-female Jaeger crew.

And then there was the unsettled situation with Chuck. He had calmed down a little, but his moods were even more erratic than usual. Miss Morton huffed and puffed and began making noises again that Chuck was simply too unstable to be raised in a Shatterdome.

"His text scores are going through the roof," pointed out Marian Taior. "He seems to be on track to get his high school certificate early."

"There's more to getting any degree even high school then just being good at math and hard science," Morton retorted. "This young man has serious emotional problems."

Despite Chuck's frequent scrapes with the other kids – Danny Oliver in particular – Greg Oliver stood by Herc. "All the kids who survived Scissure have problems. Shipping them away from their families isn't the answer."

Once another less-than-productive "parent-teacher conference" broke up, Herc confessed wearily to Greg, "I suppose it's unfair to be ticked at her when I've got no idea myself what the answer is."

"You're not alone there, mate," Greg told him. "Not by a long shot."

But Chuck started turning up in Vulcan Specter's bay more often after the minders released him during the day and evening. A few weeks after Ningyo, Herc saw him on the security feed talking to Devi.

She pulled out that Lego chess set that she and her sister carried everywhere, and beckoned him to the makeshift crate-benches the crew sat on along the edges of the bay. Herc knew the rules of chess, but hadn't ever played for fun, and wouldn't have expected Chuck to have the patience for it either. But the kid stayed. Herc shrugged it off when some of the crew commented on it.

"At least if he's playing board games with Team Vulcan, he's staying out of trouble."

He was talking to himself as much as to the others.

* * *

_February 2018…  
Sydney Shatterdome…_

A month after Ningyo, the entire Shatterdome was getting spit-polished for a big media event. Chuck was hoping for the chance to get out of the daycare and walk around at least for part of the tour that Marshall Ketteridge and the Rangers would be giving the visiting brass and reporters.

But this time, Chuck's dad came down with the teacher and said that there wouldn't be any kids allowed on the main tour, only at the family housing reception that evening. Naturally, that meant that none of them would be able to see anything remotely interesting.

To Chuck's surprise, some of the UN brass had brought their own kids with them. The population of the Sydney Dome's daycare almost tripled for those two days. It was so busy that they didn't even have regular classes; Miss Morton could barely figure out which way to look because the whole situation was so out of the neat and tidy schedules and plans that she made for everyone.

Several of the visiting children of varying ages were accompanied by nannies and even psychologists who apparently worked with them full-time. Most of those doctors and shrinks hovered up at the front of the classroom. Miss Morton could come up with no better lesson plan for the day then for her regular students to sit down and be quiet and politely ask questions if they wanted to. One child who did get the attention of almost everyone there was Aaron Schoenfeld, age twelve.

There were some other young kids there or at least some closer to Chuck's age. There were a few girls, but they just seem to prefer staying away from the boys and giggling in groups - which was _not_ something he was in any way interested in taking part in. He didn't think that they would want to join them anyway. Kirsten Blaine sure took to them.

There were a few from other countries who obviously didn't speak English very well. Most stuck close to whatever minders they brought with them. There was one girl, Japanese from the looks of her, who did cautiously step away from the blonde woman she coming with to inspect the Jaeger program paraphernalia that was lying around the daycare. Miss Morton hadn't succeeded in having it banned.

But Chuck was more interested in talking shop with Jasper Schoenfeld's son then trying to navigate a language barrier. The girl practically shrunk two inches if anyone spoke to her so he and Aaron and Danny Oliver, along with Sarla and Lindsay, managed to form a reasonably civil group and talked about what Aaron's dad had in the works for the next line of Jaegers.

They went over the schematic posters that have been released to the schools and after they finished each one, Sarla would take it over to the other kids who either didn't speak English or just didn't want to join in. The Japanese girl looked to be about Sarla's age, but she didn't know very much English. Still she smiled and eagerly held out her hands for each item of Jaeger material that Sarla offered to spare.

To his surprise, Aaron Schoenfeld actually expressed some envy of him and the other Shatterdome kids. "You actually get to _be_ here, with your dads," he muttered.

Puzzled, Chuck didn't know what to say. "You're not usually with your dad?" asked Sarla, sounding as confused as Chuck felt.

Aaron shook his head. "No, I've been in boarding school for two years. I'm only with my dad now because we're on spring break. I spend the summers in Majorca with my mom. Most of the time I only see my dad on Skype." He looked around the daycare with a funny expression. "My mom says military bases aren't the place for kids."

Chuck had no idea what to say to that. As usual, Sarla Johar had something to say. "Most Shatterdomes don't have family housing. This one does because of Chuck's dad." As the others looked at her in surprise, she nodded. "My aunt told me to thank him, two years ago when we got to come here. Mr. Hans – I mean, Ranger Hansen – he wouldn't pilot a Jaeger unless Marshall Ketteridge gave us family housing. If he and Chuck's uncle hadn't done that, we'd all be living somewhere else."

* * *

Stacker didn't insist that Mako attend the reception and family housing with him. He could tell when he went to collect her from the daycare that she was worn out. So he collected their dinner from the mess hall and brought it back to their temporary quarters so they could eat in private. _"Did you enjoy meeting the other students?"_ he asked her.

_"Yes, Sensei,"_ she said.

_"Did you make some friends?"_

_"Yes, her name is Sarla. She lived in Sydney. Now she lives here with her aunt. Aaron talked to Ranger Hanson's son. They say it's because of him that there is family housing in Sydney Shatterdome."_  
  
_"Hm. Perhaps Dr. Schoenfeld might see a chance to spend more time with his son if more bases had it."_

Dr. Schneider spoke up in English. "There's some resistance to that from the boy's mother, I'm told. She won't have him living on a base."

Now Stacker regarded his young ward. She'd started school far away from him in Pennsylvania last autumn and seemed to be thriving. But he wondered if that was what she wanted.

Carefully, he probed. _"Lima Shatterdome has no family housing yet, but as commanding officer, I could authorize it. I don't know how many families live in the area, but I can explore the option...if you'd like to."_ Mako listened calmly. _"If you would rather continue at school in Pennsylvania, that's perfectly all right. But if you would rather...be with me...perhaps it could be managed."  
_  
He felt a pang at the way her eyes widened. _"It would mean living in a Shatterdome,_ " Dr. Schneider warned. _"Taking classes by satellite."_

Mako pondered that. After a long silence, she asked very softly, _"Will kaiju come there? To the Shatterdomes?"_

Stacker hesitated and had to look to Dr. Schneider. At her nod, he admitted, _"They may. All Shatterdomes are in vulnerable cities, close to the ocean. They must be, to deploy the Jaegers quickly."_

To hear the on-site teacher here in Sydney talk, behavioral problems were the name of the game for children who'd survived attacks. The parents and guardians of the Sydney Shatterdome commiserated over the struggle to manage erratic moods and acting out.

Stacker was grateful most of the time that Mako didn't seem to have those problems - not yet anyway. But there were days like this one where he wished she did, rather than try so hard to hide her doubts and fears from him. He feared it meant that she didn't feel safe expressing what she felt to him. _I will still love you even if you have a tantrum,_ he wanted to tell her.

But with Dr. Schneider's help, he'd learned the subtle signs of resistance and doubt: the hunched shoulders, bowed head, closed eyes. It took a great deal of willpower not to rush straight into reassurances, because he loathed seeing her like that. Fear of kaiju and whatever other things might unnerve a young girl were difficult enough to soothe, but this was her fear of displeasing him.

Dr. Schneider had instructed him (repeatedly) to let Mako work up to saying her piece, so he bit his tongue and waited. "I like to be with you, Sensei," she finally murmured in English. "I... would miss Liling and Aaron."

"I wouldn't want you to miss spending time with people your own age," he agreed lightly. "After all, you have each holiday with me, just as they do with their families."

She bit her lip as she looked at him. _"Should I not stay for this summer?"_

Damn, he'd forgotten about that. Her roommate was spending an extended summer at the school this year, taking "enrichment classes," and her excitement about it had infected Mako. Stacker had gladly signed off on allowing it, too pleased that she was making a good friend and developing some joy in life again.

_"Of course, you should attend camp with Liling. I know you've been looking forward to it. You'll have two weeks with me in Lima before it begins. Or if there are no alerts, I'll come to join you, and we'll find a new place to visit._ "

Maybe the time would come when Mako was comfortable for the long-term in a Shatterdome. She was fascinated by Jaegers, but all the kaiju talk that came with them left her fearful. The first senior officers who'd sent their children to the school in Pennsylvania had picked it for a reason: it was far, far away from the Pacific Coast. Quiet, suburban, full of trees and hills, it was as removed from the war as any place could be.

Some of the parents couldn't bear it. Herc Hansen had flatly refused and led the charge to include family housing in the Shatterdomes. Sydney was the only Dome that allowed families on-site; all the others had compromised by installing staff families in the nearest local base.

Once Mako had gone to sleep, Stacker put in a brief appearance at the reception and surreptitiously watched the children of the Sydney Shatterdome. Herc's fourteen-year-old was standoffish, bordering on sullen despite the efforts of some of the visitors to draw him out. He and Herc didn't speak much, though he did obey whatever instructions his father muttered in his ear. Chuck wasn't so tense with his uncle. Scott Hansen might frustrate many senior officers and fellow Rangers, but Stacker was intrigued to see that he was the one who got the most smiles out of all the kids.

Of the girls, the oldest hovered in a small clutch whispering and giggling (and occasionally sneering). The younger teens were closer to what Stacker hoped to one day see from Mako: eager and friendly. Stacker made a point of approaching the girl Mako's age who'd gone to the effort of including her in the activities. He was astonished to discover she'd been orphaned by Scissure; young Sarla Johar's experience had been easily as hellish as Mako's, and there'd been no Jaeger to save her, only a very lucky rescue by a speedboat driver on the Sydney waterfront.

_Dare I hope that Mako could recover to this degree in a few more years?_

Dr. Schneider was onto him, and when he returned to quarters having obtained Sarla's contact information for Mako to keep in touch with her from school, she remarked, "Some children are at their best among others. Some are at their worst. You can be sure young Sarla has bad days."

"Some of the children here are miserable," he mused. The oldest girl wasn't shy in complaining about being stuck in her parents' beastly post. "Chuck Hansen... I gather even his teacher and Marshall Ketteridge think he would be better off in a school. Herc won't hear of it. Is he right, or am I?"

"Neither and both. It will change as your children do. Ranger Hansen - and his brother - they have their own reasons. For one thing, despite his outward attitude, _I_ gather that Chuck didn't want to go any more than his father wanted to send him. Children will clash with their parents. They doesn't mean they don't need them." Dr. Schneider smiled. "You may not have had the chance to notice how many staff here look in on the daycare. Plenty volunteer their time who don't even have any children. But Chuck, Sarla, and rest, they mean more to this Shatterdome than a housing statistic."

Stacker glanced into the second bedroom at the sleeping Mako, and smiled. "I think I do understand that."

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** _ _The rest of 2018 is frustrating for the Australians - both the adults and the pint-sized ones! The Hassans get into mischief at a class reunion with Team Gipsy Danger and Team Hydra Corinthian up in Nagasaki for the launch of Nova Hyperion, and Chuck and Danny square off again in **Chapter Eleven: Idle Hands and Idle Minds!**_
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> ** Original Character Guide **
> 
> Olivia Morton: A newly-licensed teacher hired to manage the children of Sydney Shatterdome's family housing. Late 20s, with several degrees but little practical experience, she views the world in black and white when the kaiju have already turned many things gray.
> 
> Marian Taior: An elderly Aboriginal woman who lost four of her five children and all of her grandchildren in Sydney. She served as Chuck's guardian while Herc and Scott are training in Anchorage, and now assists with Sydney Shatterdome's childcare.
> 
> Greg Oliver: Herc's comrade and fellow chopper pilot from before K-Day, now a support pilot for Lucky Seven. Like Herc, he moved his displaced family to Richmond Air Base, then to the Sydney Shatterdome and joined the Jaeger Program in the wake of Scissure. He lost his parents in the attack, and his oldest daughter, Karina.
> 
> Daniel (Danny) Oliver: Greg's son, age 15, who survived Scissure along with his little sister, Emma, age 8. He and Chuck have a lot in common, but lack the maturity to empathize at this stage in their lives. Both boys dream of joining the Jaeger Program as pilots.
> 
> Kirsten Blaine: The oldest teen in family housing, age 17, a New Zealander who resents having to move to Sydney so her parents could work in the Jaeger Program.
> 
> Sarla Johar: The youngest teen in family housing, Indian-Australian, age 13, orphaned by Scissure and adopted by her aunt, who is on Lucky Seven's crew. Like Chuck, she's already studying and training with dreams of attending the Jaeger Academy.
> 
> Lindsay Katz: Age 14, closest in age to Chuck, born in South Africa. Her father is an engineer who joined the PPDC after Scissure killed her mother and multiple family members.
> 
> Aaron Schoenfeld: Jasper Schoenfeld's son, age 12, who attends boarding school in Pennsylvania with other PPDC personnel's children (including one Mako Mori) due to his mother's wish that he not live on military bases. He alternates holidays with his divorced parents.
> 
> Dr. Tanja Schneider: A civilian child psychologist hired by Stacker Pentecost when he first adopted Mako in 2016. She lived and traveled with them full-time until Mako enrolled in school, and still joins them when they are together to continue Mako's therapy and recovery from the trauma of Tokyo.


	11. Idle Hands and Idle Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of 2018 is frustrating for the Australians - both the adults and the pint-sized ones! Team Vulcan Specter gets into mischief at a class reunion with Team Gipsy Danger during the launch of Nova Hyperion, and Chuck and Danny square off again!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** _ _Thank you all so much for all the great reviews and feedback! Please keep it coming! As some of you have noticed, the first part of this fic has been paced very differently from Aurora Borealis - it's mainly because I don't want to belabor events that the other story covered too much. This will be the last chapter that coincides with the events of Aurora Borealis, which ended with Clawhook's attack in July 2019. From Chapter Twelve on out, Aurora Australis will move forward on its own.  
> _

**Chapter Eleven: Idle Hands and Idle Minds**

_Sydney Shatterdome…  
June 2018…_

Spring 2018 passed quietly for the Sydney Strike Group. Lucky and Vulcan were both still in repair when Grindylow came out of the Breach in May. Fortunately, the bogey headed for the Western Hemisphere. After that, Marshall Ketteridge decided to always keep one of Australia's Jaegers in reserve.

"How do we decide who gets deployed from now on?" asked Indra Hassan. "Toss a coin?"

"Rock-paper-scissors," Herc suggested.

In June, Scott was miffed when Ketteridge tapped the Hassans to go to Nagasaki for the launch of Nova Hyperion. Ketteridge hinted that he would have preferred to send the Hansens. "Pretty ladies will always be first in line, Ranger, what can you do?" the Marshall told Scott, all "bro" sympathy. "And the UN wants pictures of the 2016-B graduates reuniting."

"We're racking up quite a score, you know!" Indra bragged. "Gipsy, Vulcan, and Hydra have all been proven in action."

"That so?" Kyrra began counting on her fingers. "There were seven in the Class of 2015, and every one of them has at least one kill to their name now. Another two if you count Brawler Yukon."

"Hey, Brawler doesn't count as a Mark-1!"

"Sure, he does!"

"Brawler's in a class by himself," Herc agreed, getting a cross look from Scott as if to say, _Whose side are you on?_ But he smirked at Vulcan's crew and said, "But the Mark-1 class is still well ahead of you, mate."

"Yeah, okay, you've got one each after three years, but Gipsy and Vulcan now have three between them in the space of eight months," Indra retorted.

They were all grinning, but Herc could tell Scott was getting riled up. Ridiculous how he could get drawn into actually giving a damn about rivalries and point scores, as if the kaiju war was a bloody video game. So Herc waved them off. "We'll tally it all up and see whose belt got the most notches after they finally shut down the Breach. In the meantime, you tell your cousins to behave themselves on the red carpet up there. We'll have our own party down here in the Southern Hemisphere."

Scott promptly took advantage of the off-base leave that Team Lucky got as the consolation prize. Herc went with him to a few of the Sydney bar gatherings at first, but the weather was shit. So he joined many of the less rowdy crew returning to the Dome where the machinery engines and generators kept everything reasonably warm. They could drink (within reason) on base, so they were at least not getting soaked by cold rain in between pints.

Chuck was getting over a respiratory bug that had swept through the Shatterdome population - adding insult to injury as far as Scott was concerned. Half the Sydney crews were coughing and sneezing while watching the Hassans and their classmates living it up in the Northern Hemisphere.

After looking in on Chuck and taking Max out for a walk, Herc joined the poker tournament in the crew lounge, watching the festivities in Nagasaki and Shanghai with good humor. He was among the floored, somewhat-envious population of Rangers who boggled and gossiped when the news broke about Crimson Typhoon's ground-breaking design.

A text from Scott made him roll his eyes. _So the fucking mech has three fucking arms. Big fucking deal._ Of course, the jealousy was eating his brother alive.

"Did you ever meet those triplets?" Indra asked.

Herc nodded. "Yeah, they joined up a few months after us. Interesting kids. Still the youngest ever to make Ranger Ready; they'd only just turned seventeen." He shared a knowing smirk with Greg Oliver and the other parents among the crews. "Yeah, me neither, mates. Not a bloody chance in hell."

"You can say that again. I _might_ let Sarla try for it when she's seventeen if she gets her high school certificate early," mused the aunt/guardian of one of the teen girls. "Fair motive to keep her working hard. The Academy classes are only every six months, so she'd be eighteen at graduation. Earlier? No fucking way."

"Too right," Greg agreed. "I made a deal with Danny; I'll sign off on his application when he's got his high school certificate, but not a minute sooner."

Hanging out in the mess hall and officers' lounge, the crews played cards, gossiped happily on the newly-released specs for Crimson Typhoon, and laughed at the television. The reporters were alternating between chasing the Wei triplets around Hong Kong and chasing Class 2016-B and Team Nova Hyperion around Nagasaki.

Herc was proud of himself for making it to the final four of the Sydney Shatterdome poker tourney, and they were trying to finish in the wee hours when a buzz from Indra Hassan's tablet made them all jump.

"No cheating!" Herc admonished, getting laughs from their small audience.

It was Susanti, shrieking with laughter and roaring drunk. " _Indra! Ohmigod, Indra!_ "

With a half-laugh, half-groan, her cousin observed, "Really, Suzy, you were on a streak of not drunk-Skyping me for almost four years!"

"Oh, one of those, is she?" Herc chuckled. "'I love you, mayun?'"

There was male laughter on the tablet's speakers, and someone said, " _Dev is gonna_ kill _you, Suze!_ "

" _What for?! She always rats on me!_ "

"Uh-oh, what's big sister been up to?" demanded Kyrra.

Herc could just see Indra's tablet enough to make out a gleeful, swaying Susanti Hassan with the pilots of Hydra Corinthian on either side of her, eager to share their juicy gossip. " _There's been some confusion about who's staying in what rooms at Nagasaki Dome,_ " giggled Kennedy LaRue, no steadier on her feet than Suze was.

" _And guess who walked in on Devi and Yancy!_ " crowed a boy's voice.

While Indra looked delighted/appalled, he did not look shocked. "Oh _no!_ "

" _Admiral Yamamoto!_ " Suze practically screamed, and dissolved into howls of laughter.

Whoops, applause, and catcalls rang out in the Sydney mess hall. "Ohhhh, _very_ busted!" Kyrra hooted, slapping Indra on the back as he burst into laughter as well.

Herc was laughing too. "Poor kids, they get caught in the act and now the whole Corps knows."

"Are they hiding?" Indra guessed, wiping his eyes.

" _I think they've committed hara-kiri_ ," Stephanie Lanphier said. " _Suze and Raleigh are gonna have to find new partners!_ "

" _Let's partner together! We'd be good!_ " said the boy. It must have been Raleigh Becket, as elated over his brother's embarrassment as Susanti was over her sister's.

" _Dibs on the right side,_ " Suze announced.

" _I'll arm-wrestle you for it -_ "

" - All right, all right, you've successfully spread your sister's humiliation to the Sydney Shatterdome, now budge off," Indra ordered, flicking the tablet screen. "I'm in the middle of an important meeting."

"He said, with a stack of poker chips in front of him," Kyrra called loudly.

* * *

_December 2018…_

Lucky Seven was deployed in August for Razorfin, and Vulcan Specter in November for Raythe, but neither one had any more kaiju contact in 2018. Chuck could tell that Herc and Scott and the Hassans were disappointed not to see any more action.

After the Japanese and Chinese strike groups took hits and losses, he heard his uncle say Australia's year would definitely be 2019.

A lot of the techs from both crews glared at Scott. "Maybe don't put it in terms like that when the flag's at half-staff," Chuck's dad muttered.

Chuck had a mostly-free pass to wander around the Jaeger bays during his free time, once Herc was satisfied that he wasn't in anyone's way. "If we need the place clear, we'll say so," the J-Techs assured Herc. "The kids are welcome to watch."

"Fair _privilege_ , then," said Herc, giving Chuck a meaningful look.

As if Chuck ever acted out anywhere near the mechs and equipment, let Max off his leash, or even asked questions if the crews were busy working! Still, it was a "privilege" he was willing to be a good boy to hang onto. Yet, even when Herc wasn't in evidence - which was usually the case - Chuck found the atmosphere of Lucky's bay a little tense. So he gravitated towards Vulcan Specter's.

Scott grumbled at him for "liking those girls' mech better than your old man's," but sometimes Chuck felt like Herc could see him through Lucky Seven's eyes even when the pilots weren't in the conn-pod. And, well, Vulcan's crew was younger, with more former civilians, and a little more fun. They all greeted him cheerfully whenever they saw him in the bay or on the catwalks, and a lot of them would come running over to give Max a quick scratch.

After Razorfin, some British rag published a story accusing the related Jaeger pilots of incest. Chuck probably wouldn't have heard about it at all if the crews had been able to hide their fury as well as his dad and uncle did. But the story had everyone in the Shatterdome snarling in rage or trying not to gag, and sometimes the crews didn't realize he was within earshot when they were ranting.

More frustrating was the result: in October, right when the weather was nicest in the spring, the minders got edgy and wouldn't let the kids outside by themselves, not even Chuck and the other oldest teens. That was annoying and frustrating, especially since they wouldn't tell him what it was about. So he spent even more time after his fifteenth birthday just checking out the mechs.

Danny Oliver was coming up on his seventeenth birthday, when his dad and mum had promised he could start applying to the Jaeger Academy. To Chuck's snide amusement, the older boy started making nice, wanting Chuck to drill and spar with him on the Jaeger Bushido and trying to talk about J-Tech and K-Science.

The drilling and sparring, Chuck would take; he didn't have many people his size to practice with either. But Danny following him around the Jaeger bays was annoying, and he was more persistent now than any of the other kids had been. His questions were stupid, and his shameless sucking up to Team Lucky was insulting.

"Chuck, come _on_ , let's go see what's going on in your dad's crew!" he whined one day, trailing after when Chuck headed for Vulcan's bay.

"If you want to go brown-nose, then go do it! I'll go where I like after classes."

"But we - "

"' _We_ ' nothing, Oliver. We're not mates!" Chuck spat, finally snapping. "You think you're gonna get favors from the Academy because your dad's a support pilot? Fat bloody chance, when you can't even manage a passing mark in maths, and all the sucking up in the world won't change that!"

That did it. Max scrambled for cover and watched from the wall as Chuck and Danny went toe-to-toe. "Yeah, well, I'll have a chance for three tries before you're through getting baby-sat, Hansen!"

"Three tries won't be enough to put the admissions test into your thick skull!"

"And even _with_ your scores, they won't want you! You're an asshole thug just like your uncle, and you've got no handy brother to make it worth the Program's while! I know why you're always in Vulcan's bay, because even your own bloody _dad_ doesn't want you around!"

Max's barking only added to the ruckus as Chuck slammed Danny into the wall, and it was all chaos and flying fists and yells and curses until they were wrenched bodily apart.

When the roaring in his ears and the red haze in Chuck's eyes faded, he found Danny wriggling in the grasp of Susanti Hassan and himself practically lifted off the floor by Kyrra Taior. Devi Hassan had Max's leash. _Shit._ They'd got the attention of Lucky's Chief Engineer _and_ Vulcan's pilots, which meant both of their dads would be on their way.

"All clear?" called an MP.

"Yeah, we got this. We'll leave 'em with my mum." Kyrra released Chuck, but she and the Rangers waited until Marian Taior arrived.

"All right, who started it?"

"HE did!" Danny yelled like a proper, whiny dobber, pointing at Chuck. "He's always picking fights - "

" - That so?" Devi Hassan folded her arms and cast the same raking look at Danny that Chuck had seen her give Scott. That was surprising - but a little nice. But he cringed at the way she looked at him when she agreed, "Mr. Hansen here did throw the first punch, but I think Mr. Oliver ought to repeat - to _his_ dad - what he said about Chuck's dad right before that."

Danny Oliver turned dead white. Marian gave both boys a thin, cool smile. "I'll see that he does. I can take it from here, Rangers; all three of you've got _much_ more important things to do than manage a couple of brats." Chuck's heart sank as the Hassans and Kyrra walked away and left him to face his father's wrath.

The only consolation he could draw - apart from having bloodied Danny fucking Oliver's nose again - was that Sergeant Oliver was livid when he learned what Danny'd said about Herc. He didn't make Danny repeat it in Herc's hearing. Chuck suspected Danny's father was too embarrassed himself, but heard him speak up in Chuck's defense. "I know there's no excuse for throwing punches, but your kid was pretty well provoked. There's more than one way to pick a fight."

"There _is_ no excuse," Herc replied, though he clapped his support pilot's arm as if to say no hard feelings, saving his ire for Chuck.

That was the end of Chuck being allowed in either Jaeger bay up until Christmas 2018. He and Danny were in disgrace in school and outside; the crews avoided talking to them, and the MPs watched them wherever they went. At least Danny quit trying to pretend to be his friend, and Chuck consoled himself that in a few weeks, the older boy would be busy trying (and failing) to get into the Academy.

* * *

_January 2019…_

After the holidays, Chuck's father reinstated his Jaeger bay privileges. The newly-promoted Indra Hassan gave Chuck a tour of LOCCENT, his new domain as Support Chief for Vulcan Specter.

Chuck had seen the schematics and read everything he could get his hands on, but it was different to see it in action. Indra even let him watch while they were running systems check with Vulcan's Rangers in the conn-pod.

"Lined up perfectly, my girls. And that is what a neural handshake looks like!"

Chuck cautiously stepped a little closer in response to Indra's encouraging nod, studying all the read-outs: lines on graphs and rows of numbers that represented electrical signals flowing freely back and forth between the pilots' brains. "Why's it going in three directions?"

"Pilot-pilot-Jaeger. There are three bodies operating out there," Indra explained, gesturing to the mech exercising his arms in perfect synch with the holographic drivesuited women on the display. "So our Chinese compatriots actually have a four-way link. The pons is the bridge between the pilots. When the neural handshake is stable, the neural relay connects them to the Jaeger's systems."

Chuck had thought J-Tech was pretty interesting before, but the hours flew by whenever the LOCCENT crews let him up there. The J-Techs and strike troopers had simulations of their own to run completely separate from the Rangers: emergency scenarios and team practices with other Shatterdomes. Chuck, along with Danny Oliver and Lindsay Katz, got the honor of getting to watch a few of those.

That privilege was only extended to those who could keep their mouths shut the entire time - sometimes for hours. It wasn't easy, but Chuck could do it if the prize was sweet enough. They watched simulated deployments, rescue/recovery operations, pursuit protocols, and emergency back-up procedures. It was one thing to read manuals and watch dull, narrated demos of the software. It was something else entirely to see how it all fit together.

So when Hardship attacked Concepción in January, Chuck had a clearer vision than ever of all the players and all the parts in motion - and a better idea of why it hit everyone in the Sydney Shatterdome so hard.

The destruction of Diablo Intercept was bad enough, knowing how severely injured – if not dead – Benjamin Gonzalez and Felipe Jara had to be as Romeo Blue struggled to drag the kaiju away from Diablo's conn-pod.

But after the engagement was over and the bastard Hardship got what was coming to him, Chuck realized that the disaster in Concepción was still going on.

The day after Hardship was declared dead, he had just started daring Vulcan's bay again - keeping quieter than usual since the crew were still working on engagement reports - when there was a commotion around the video feeds from Chile. As soon as he heard mutterings about an explosion and rescue choppers down, he left the bay. This wasn't a moment for an audience, he knew.

But he saw the Hassans in the hallway leading out of LOCCENT, and Indra coming towards them with a look on his face that stopped Chuck in his tracks. "It was one of Gipsy's and one of Romeo's," he told his cousins. "Lager Four and Whiskey Gamma. No survivors."

"Do we know who was on board?" asked Susanti. Indra wordlessly held out a tablet, and she and Devi both flinched. "Damn it!" She shut her eyes and leaned against the wall, and Devi looked up and saw Chuck.

Chuck hurried off without a word.

Marian told him quietly that evening, "Be nice to Team Vulcan, lad. They've lost some good friends over there."

"Are Diablo Intercept's Rangers still alive? Gonzalez and Jara?"

"Alive, but critical condition. And you see how close the crews here work together. It's the same with every other Jaeger, and some of those strike troopers came out of the same class as the Hassans and their crew."

Herc was very quiet, though he said he hadn't known any of the lost crew very well. He was always quiet as the crews got ready for memorial services.

After the personnel all went out in dress uniforms for the flag-lowering, Chuck saw Scott come up and give Devi Hassan a full-body hug from behind.

She snarled like an angry cat and wrenched away from him. "I was just trying to tell you how sorry I am!" he protested, in a tone like he used when hinting that Chuck didn't really _have_ to come straight home after classes.

"I am _not_ in the mood for you, Hansen, or rather I'm even less in the mood than ever, now keep your mitts to yourself," Devi spat.

Scott actually seemed offended. "No need to be a bitch about it." Chuck turned his attention to Max so they wouldn't think he'd overheard.

Not that Chuck was completely uninterested in girls, they just weren't ever as high on his list of priorities as they seemed to be with Scott. Certainly they weren't high enough to merit the pushy approach Scott used. The minders got the bright idea to throw "dances" now and then for the base kids. Considering it was the entire underage population of the Sydney Shatterdome and Richmond Air Base, from toddler to eighteen, it wasn't much of a mood-setter.

Still, Chuck gave in to Scott's urging to find a date lest he be conspicuous in his absence or singledom, so he took Lindsay Katz. She was all right, from the Shatterdome and at least interested in the Jaeger Program and Academy like him, so they had stuff to talk about.

She was his first kiss. It wasn't exactly fireworks, but at least at age fifteen he could say he'd kissed a girl, and she could say she'd kissed a guy, so that worked out. They were awkward in each other's presence after that, but they'd never really not been.

Scott crowed about it, and Chuck's dad looked like he was having a really hard time not laughing.

Chuck had heard "the talk" from his mum before Year Five, and got it again from Marian Taior in 2015 when Dad and Scott were in Alaska. The latter was mortifying, but at least she was straightforward and dispassionate, and pointed him to some places on the Internet where he could go if he had questions without the humiliation of having to ask anyone face-to-face.

Chuck _really_ didn't get the way his uncle approached girls. Everyone talked about how badly Scott treated women, and he seemed to get annoyed when someone (like the Hassans) wasn't interested, but he never seemed to want to change his technique. People always told Chuck that he had to change his attitude if he wanted to make friends - but Chuck didn't especially care about "making friends," so he didn't bother. If Scott _wanted_ more dates, it stood to reason that he ought to adapt.

He didn't, and even from Chuck's limited view, his ire for Team Vulcan only grew. Scott was disgusted in July 2019, when the Marshall tapped Vulcan instead of Lucky to cross the Pacific in pursuit of Clawhook. Scott went off-base even before the stand-down order, and Chuck knew he'd stumble back in drunk sometime tomorrow.

The Hassans came back from the Clawhook engagement without a kill stamp, but with another engagement under their belt. As they boasted about Gipsy Danger, their fellow Mark-3, now being the only three-kill team in the world, the look Scott shot at them made Chuck nervous.

_**To be continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** _ _The kaiju are getting bigger, and so are the Jaeger strike groups. But as Team Lucky Seven and Team Vulcan Specter train for three-Jaeger drops, trouble is brewing in the Sydney Shatterdome in_ _**Chapter Twelve: Fact and Fantasy!** _
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> ** Original Character Guide  **
> 
> Marshall Blake Ketteridge: Commanding Officer of Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force.
> 
> Marian Taior: An elderly Aboriginal woman who lost four of her five children and all of her grandchildren in Sydney. She served as Chuck's guardian while Herc and Scott are training in Anchorage, and now assists with Sydney Shatterdome's childcare.
> 
> Kyrra Taior: Lucky Seven's Chief Engineer, Marian's youngest and sole surviving daughter, Herc's age.
> 
> Greg Oliver: Herc's comrade and fellow chopper pilot from before K-Day, now a support pilot for Lucky Seven. Like Herc, he joined the Jaeger Program in the wake of Scissure. He lost his parents and his oldest daughter, Karina, in the attack .
> 
> Daniel (Danny) Oliver: Greg's son, age 16, who survived Scissure along with his little sister, Emma. He and Chuck have a lot in common, but lack the maturity to empathize at this stage in their lives. Both boys dream of joining the Jaeger Program as pilots.
> 
> Lindsay Katz: Age 15, closest in age to Chuck among the teens in the Sydney Shatterdome, born in South Africa. Her father is an engineer who joined the PPDC after Scissure killed her mother and multiple family members.


	12. Fact and Fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kaiju are getting bigger, and so are the Jaeger strike groups. But as Team Lucky Seven and Team Vulcan Specter train for three-Jaeger drops, trouble is brewing in the Sydney Shatterdome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Note:** _ _This chapter is a little bit short, I'm afraid, but the next few after are quite long, so I hope that makes up for it!_
> 
> **_TRIGGER WARNING : _ ** _Chapter Twelve_ _and Chapter Thirteen contain some references to rape and violent sexual fantasies. Those scenes are intentionally vague - I don't believe in using violence or noncon for titillation purposes - but the implication is there, so do be aware of that if you have trigger concerns.  
> _

**Chapter Twelve: Fact and Fantasy**

_Sydney Shatterdome…  
September 2019…_

Hercules Hansen never forgave himself for his self-deception. That he'd gone on clinging to the belief that his brother was a good man even when he saw the turn of Scott's thoughts in the drift. Herc knew Scott resented the Hassans, for their disdain of him and even just for their skill, but he told himself it was just old-school military attitude like Ketteridge, and harmless.

And if the turn of Scott's thoughts was disturbingly dark in the drift at times, well, those weren't real, they were fantasies. One of the core principles of drifting was not to take fantasies seriously, not to judge.

It wasn't always easy. Every man had his private kinks; that was no crime, as uncomfortable as it was when brothers shared headspace. Every man also had his dark side, his angry side… Herc knew that. The psych team didn't ask and Herc didn't tell. He told himself that it was just Scott being Scott.

Scott's fantasies sometimes ran dark and violent, but Herc knew from the drift that he'd found plenty of women whose tastes ran as rough as his. And if Scott's imagination sometimes went into a level of violence nobody would consent to… Herc told himself that lots of men thought that way.

It was only fantasy. Fantasy was harmless. Jaeger pilots couldn't judge what was only in someone's mind.

_A man's a man,_ Marshal Ketteridge always said when the press or the brass brought up Scott's public persona. And Herc never mentioned the one he saw in the drift.

But when the faces that flashed in Scott's rough, creepy drift fantasies were familiar, even though Herc knew they weren't real, it was hard to ignore.

"What the HELL was that?!" Herc bellowed at his brother after a simulation a few months after Clawhook.

"It was me in a bad mood, and if you're really going to demand an accounting, I'll start taking notes on where your mind goes when it wanders!" Scott retorted.

"They're our partners, not a couple of your whores - " Herc caught himself when he realized Chuck was home. The kid was in his bedroom doorway, watching the exchange with wary eyes.

"Everything okay?"

In the corner of his eye, Scott blanched, and Herc had a feeling if he looked in the mirror, he'd be white too. Chuck ignored it when his father and uncle argued - until now. If they'd disturbed him enough that the closemouthed kid was willing to speak up...

_Drop it, Herc. It wasn't real_ , Scott hissed through the ghost drift. He didn't want them fighting around Chuck, scaring the boy.

Herc mustered a smile and said, "Yeah, we're good. Just an argument."

Scott pointed playfully at Herc. "His fault." Herc thumped him. Chuck relaxed, and so did they.

For years, Herc wondered how different all of their lives - and others' lives - would have been if he hadn't let it go then.

* * *

_October 2019..._

October's event, two months or so after Clawhook, had the kaiju running east towards the US coast again. This time, the long-distance Jaeger came north from Panama. The bogey targeted the Seattle/Portland region, and the Chen twins brought Puma Real up to stand guard as backup for Chrome Brutus and Mammoth Apostle.

Gaduka was nearly as big as Yamarashi, and more aggressive than Clawhook. Cascade Victor and Yankee Star made the first intercept off the California coast, and both took some serious knocks before the kaiju ran north towards Vancouver. Chrome and Mammoth were waiting, and Puma jumped the gun and moved in to join them.

"Marshal Gagnon's going to throw a fit," Indra Hassan said as the Sydney teams watched in the war room.

"I'm not sure Carlos and Jordana were wrong, though," said Kyrra. "This bastard's right on the line with Yamarashi. Any bigger or meaner and we'll have ourselves a Category IV. They may start needing three-Jaeger drops."

Marshal Ketteridge nodded, looking at K-Watch's deployment report. "That's the plan. And tighter formations." He gestured to Sydney's four Rangers. "After this kill, Tactics is starting you lot on triple-teaming."

"Yeah? But are we staying in our old rust bucket or moving up to a new model?" asked Scott with a grin. There was a lot of gossip about the Mark-5 being built in Brisbane. It was so sophisticated – and expensive – that some of the UN representatives and PPDC brass were pushing for an experienced pilot team to be transferred, and for their older model to be turned over to the Academy newbies.

Ketteridge grinned back, though Herc rolled his eyes. "Well, we haven't got a sim program for the Mark-5 yet, but when we do..." He winked. "What's the matter, Herc, you like your antiques that much?"

"She's a classic," Herc replied as if Lucky Seven were a car, getting laughter and applause from some of the others.

"Someone get that man a Cadillac!"

"Remind me to introduce you to Gipsy Danger's LOCCENT Chief some time," said Indra. "Tendo Choi. He loves his vintage, says Lucky's got the most style in the fleet."

They all returned their attention to the battle taking place on the Canadian coast and applauded when Chrome and Mammoth pinned the kaiju between them for Puma to gut with precision. "The Mark-5's going to have a whole array of missiles," Kyrra mused, studying the latest blueprints. "But there's something tried and true about a good set of claws."

"The environmentalists are gonna have a fit about all that Blue," said Susanti, making a face. Gaduka was leaving a massive, toxic slick from the deep wounds inflicted by the Jaegers. "They need to cauterize. Is Mammoth Apostle out of burner fuel?"

"Probably, he made three passes already. There's one problem with the Mark-4 lot; they don't have the heat sources like the nuclear mechs. Still," Kyrra put her feet on the table with satisfaction as the California LOCCENT called the kill and everyone cheered on the speakers. "Everyone's still standing. Good fight."

Anticipation was rising around the Sydney Shatterdome over the impending testing of the Mark-5. The last of the Mark-4's had launched at the end of August and September, one for Japan and Korea, the other for China. The Mark-5 was going to be Australia's. The Academy had several candidate teams from down under, but Ketteridge wanted the new mech to go to the Hansens.

"He'll be the fastest, most sophisticated Jaeger in the world. I want our best crew in him."

Scott preened, but Herc saw the thin-lipped resignation in the eyes of the Hassans. Even though Devi and Susanti now had two engagements to their name compared to Lucky's one, the thought of proposing that Team Vulcan make the switch had never occurred to the Marshal.

* * *

"Are you not interested?" Herc asked Devi in the Kwoon a few days after the October attack.

"Not much point, is there?" she said wryly. But she waved him off as he started to muster something like regret or sympathy. "Don't worry about it. We're actually happy with Vulcan. He's a good mech, and we've gotten to know him. No kinks to worry about that we know of. Lucky may need some refitting if she's going to stay in service."

"Yeah, that's Scott's point. There's some lag in her systems, problems with signal breakdown in her extremities that need long-term attention. Either way, we'd have a spell out of commission for repairs." Herc brought his hanbō to bear and closed with her in a spar. "Stacker Pentecost is still trying to wrangle up funding for more of them. He wants five new mechs, and Tacit Ronin, Diablo Intercept, and Silver Lion all back in service."

"Good God, we'll be back on a shortage of pilots before too long. Who'd pay for another Mark-5?"

"That's the burning question." Herc landed a hit that she should have deflected. "Oh, come on, I'm not a washed-up old geezer; attack, already!"

"Sor- _ry!_ " She retorted, and laid into him, until the air was full of the clack of wood on wood and their surroundings blurred with sweat and adrenaline.

Much better. The Academy taught Jaeger Bushido as a method for establishing compatibility, but once they had that, it served in a fight against an unpredictable opponent. Strike, parry, attack in dizzy circles, no holds barred, no restrictions.

She might be ten years younger, all her fighting experience confined to the rigid rules of elegant martial arts, but Devi Hassan had seen plenty of how Herc Hansen fought after two years. And she knew how fast he could process and react. He thought she overextended - and fell into a trap, her feet lashing out to tangle his. But he was already compensating even as he went down, and snagged her with one knee, pulling her down with him and using his bō to leverage his greater weight over her for the pin...

Devi tried to maneuver away, but didn't make it, only knocking him off balance, and he came down full force on her chest, catching himself hard on his elbow next to her face...

... her face an inch from his, liquid eyes bright with exertion, heart hammering beneath his...

Coherent thought deserted him as something he hadn't felt in four years returned in full fury, making his throat tighten and his blood thrum, and past and future faded amid the roaring in his ears as his vision tunneled to the face under his...

But he saw it in her eyes even as she went rigid, and he was pushing himself off her before she had a chance to put the words together. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"'s okay." Devi slid her hanbō onto the rack, grabbed her gear, and vanished.

Herc went to the showers, turned them on ice cold, and fought not to put his fist through the wall. _Get a grip on yourself, Hercules. So you can still fight, she respects you, but you're an old soldier to her. Not some creep looking for younger ass, like... find someone your own age if you want to get back in the game. You've got no one to blame but yourself._

* * *

_November 2019..._

Naturally, Scott saw it in the drift the very next time he and Herc were in the simulator. "And what the hell was THAT?!"

_A "moment." It happens, but I took the hint._ Herc's face was hot as they came out of the sim pod. "What? All indignant on her behalf now, are you?" _You don't have a leg to stand on._

"All this time, you've been calling me a sleaze," his brother hissed.

"And as you like to remind me, what's inside your head is out of your control!" Herc shot back. "Doesn't it hold for me too? What the hell - are you staking claims even on the ones not interested in you?! It's always been her sister you've been perving after!"

"That 'moment' wasn't just you." Scott's declaration brought Herc up sharp. "And, yeah, Her Highness there hasn't had the time of day for me. Apparently because I'm not you."

"Well, as you saw, she didn't have much more than that for me, seeing as _I'm_ not Yancy bloody Becket!"

_Oh, fucking Christ, I said that out loud._

Incredible, what could come flying out of the subconscious in a drift. A year ago, Herc had laughed with everyone else when Susanti reported her sister and Becket getting caught out by one of the C.O.s. It had never occurred to him to be jealous. The nudging and winking had stepped up again after Team Vulcan had returned from fighting Clawhook.

Before today, Herc would have sworn up and down that it was just funny and didn't bother him at all, because it wasn't as if he was interested in Devi Hassan. Sure, he found her attractive, anyone would, but nowhere near enough that he should feel envious of another bloke.

_Shit, shit, shit._

Scott considered him, and his accusatory pose faded. "So. Even the great Hercules doesn't always get what he wants."

"Is that really what you've thought? Please." Herc sighed. "Adjust your expectations and don't blame a girl ten years younger for liking someone a little closer to her own age. She's a _colleague._ Good-looking woman, so yeah, I had a moment, but she wasn't interested. I'll get the fuck over it like a grown-up."

"They string us all along - "

"She didn't string ANYBODY along!" God, he wondered at his brother's logic. "She said no to you, she said no to me - you're the one who doesn't listen." None of them had ever said anything _but_ no to Scott, for that matter. Did Scott really think the disgust and disdain that respectable women cast was all some elaborate hard-to-get scheme?

Scott's frustration and resentment whispered through the ghost drift. "Yeah, all right, I get it. No decent girl will ever want the likes of me."

"You know damn well that's not what I mean. But if you want a decent girl, try treating them less like they're for sale."

* * *

_December 2019…_

Herc really thought that was the end of it. Just another spat in the very different life philosophies of Herc and Scott Hansen, roughed up and smoothed over and easy enough to move on from. When the Hansens began doing remote simulations with Gipsy Danger, he didn't even flinch at the sound of the Beckets' names or look in the Hassans' directions.

Lucky Seven worked well with her fellows in the triple formations, racking up one of the highest group sim scores. Before long, they were in the top tier, forming the A-Team with their fellow Mark-1, Horizon Brave, and Gipsy Danger. The brass and the tacticians combined the triple teams from different Shatterdomes, aiming for the widest coverage possible. It meant that Lucky Seven and Vulcan Specter didn't get to do simulations together very often, which was disappointing, but Vulcan was another standout performer in the triple-Jaeger simulations. He was on regular sim runs with Coyote Tango and Crimson Typhoon.

The simulations didn't garner public acclaim like real engagements, but it was a bolster to Herc and Scott's egos that they were outperforming most of the other Mark-1 mechs, including those with better records, and many of the newer Jaegers with more cutting-edge technology.

Marshal Ketteridge could barely contain himself, anticipating the day the Mark-5 would arrive and Sydney Shatterdome would have three mechs. All they needed was another Australian team to graduate the Academy. It was nearly a foregone conclusion that the new team would inherit Lucky Seven, and the Hansens would become the first crew to get "promoted" to a new Jaeger.

As 2019 wound to a close, Herc was more concerned with Chuck, having seen the kid peeking at the application materials for the Academy. _Don't even think about it, Boyo._ "Not 'till you're eighteen," he said, trying to soften it with a smile.

Chuck sulked, as usual. "I've got my high school certificate this term! Danny Oliver's on his fourth try."

"You aren't Danny Oliver, and his parents aren't me," Herc replied. "You don't get to apply independently until you're legal age, and there's some things no school can teach on an accelerated term." _Like not sulking when you don't get your way._ "When you hit seventeen, next August, we'll talk. I'll consider it."

Somehow he couldn't fathom Chuck growing up that much in nine months, but stranger things had happened. The Academy didn't have a minimum age, but since underage applicants still had to have parent or guardian permission from their home country, Herc wasn't worried.

That was just another miscalculation in the annals of Hercules Hansen, another assumption that he staked too bloody much of his and other lives on.

Like a balancing block game, he piled certainty after certainty on just a few truths: that his brother was a good man, and that Herc, Chuck Hansen's father, was in control of the boy's future until he came of age.

And on December 16, 2019, as the Breach spat out its first Category IV, it all came tumbling down.

_**To be continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** _ _The first Category IV kaiju. A three-Jaeger drop ends in catastrophe when the drift reveals to Herc what his brother has become in **Chapter Thirteen: Manila.** _
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!  
> **
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Marshall Blake Ketteridge: Commanding Officer of Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force.
> 
> Kyrra Taior: Lucky Seven's Chief Engineer, Herc's age. Youngest and sole surviving daughter of Marian Taior, an elderly aboriginal woman who occasionally looks after Chuck.
> 
> Carlos and Jordana Chen: Pilots of Puma Real. Fraternal twins from Panama (also of Chinese descent), in their late 20s.
> 
> Devi and Susanti Hassan: Indonesian-Australian sisters, ages 29 and 27, who graduated the Academy along with Raleigh and Yancy Becket and Tendo Choi in the second half of 2016.
> 
> Indra Hassan: Devi and Susanti's cousin, age 39, failed the Jaeger Academy's second cut for drift compatibility but stayed on to become a LOCCENT technician. He serves the same role on Vulcan Specter's crew that Tendo Choi does for Gipsy Danger.


	13. Manila

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Manila, 2019. The first Category IV kaiju. A three-Jaeger drop ends in catastrophe when the drift reveals to Herc what his brother has become.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** Thank you all for the fantastic feedback on the last chapters! Please keep it coming! This chapter combines two canon events, the "three-Jaeger drop" where Herc Hansen rode with Gipsy Danger, and an event referenced by Travis Beacham in the extended canon. His description of Scott Hansen and explanation for the end of Scott's tenure in the Jaeger pilot only gave vague terms, so this is my take on it._
> 
> _**TRIGGER WARNING:** This chapter contains flashbacks to rape and violence. Those descriptions are intentionally vague - I don't believe in using violence or noncon for titillation purposes - but the implication is there, so do be aware of that if you have trigger concerns._

**Chapter Thirteen: Manila**

_Sydney Shatterdome…  
December 16, 2019…_

K-Watch's senior Response Tactician was a posh British gent of proper "keep calm and carry on" stock, old enough that whenever he talked about The Great War, Herc and Scott privately mused that he thought he'd actually been there. To be fair, Major James Bingham was brilliant, and his uppercrust accent and manners had a way of persuading the brass even when his proposed strategy meant parting with more of their precious funding.

" _We need triple teams; pairs will not be enough!_ " Bingham was ordering on the vid conference as the Rangers and their pod crews barreled into the war room. " _This kaiju is going to run west. Start moving your distance crews into position now_."

A holographic map projected over the center of the table. The bogey blip was still meandering around the Breach, but if he did move as K-Watch was predicting, there would be less than a day until landfall.

The commanding officers exchanged only a few looks on the video feed before they started barking out orders. " _I'm running Gipsy Danger to Sydney,_ " said Stacker Pentecost. There was a flurry of movement around him in his Anchorage headquarters as Team Gipsy bolted from their seats. " _General Liang, can you send Horizon Brave south?_ "

" _Done_ ," said the commanding officer from Hong Kong immediately. Herc and Scott were already standing up, and Ketteridge was already turning towards them. Lucky Seven, Horizon Brave, and Gipsy Danger would form the most experienced and practiced team. They would have point against the biggest kaiju in history. " _Crimson Typhoon has done well with Vulcan Specter in the triple simulations. Bring Vulcan to Hong Kong; we will pair them with Coyote Tango to cover the Chinese coast_."

Marshal Ketteridge gestured to Team Vulcan. "And done - "

" _No, wait! Don't leave the A-Team in Sydney_ ," called one of the K-Watchers. " _This bogey's not going to run that far south; the current circulation is completely wrong for it. He's going to go west - get your top crew into the Philippines!_ "

Everyone hesitated, exchanging glances again. " _That is a shorter trip for Gipsy Danger_ ," said Pentecost slowly. " _When can we expect landfall?_ "

The K-Watchers hesitated, tapping away at their keyboards. " _It depends on how long it takes him to pick up his scent_ ," said an oceanographer. " _But unless he goes on a straight line to the northeast right now and stays on that heading for absolutely no reason - and none of them have done that - he's going to run into the North Pacific Gyre, and it'll take him straight into a major runoff stream from Manila and Hong Kong. You need your two best teams waiting for him_."

" _Timeframe!_ " barked one of the western Marshals. " _What are we dealing with?_ "

" _Twenty hours to Manila, twenty-four to Hong Kong_ if _he is as fast as Keunsango_ and _doesn't take any detours_ ," announced Bingham.

Ketteridge was frowning. "I don't like leaving Sydney completely exposed."

" _We'll give you Solar Prophet and Amazon Delta_ ," said Lima's Marshal. " _They'll be dep-ready on your pad before the bogey can get to you even if he does change direction. Panama?_ "

" _I'll send over Hydra Corinthian and Rio Sentry. Where do you want them?_ " said Marshal Quijano from Panama.

"That works for me," said Ketteridge. He jerked his thumb at Team Vulcan and Team Lucky. "Go. We need a full deployment base established in Manila in ten hours. Get General Santiago on this call."

" _I'm sending the majority of Gipsy's ground crews ahead_ \- " Marshal Pentecost's voice was muffled as the door swung closed behind Herc and Scott.

Chuck was already with the minders at the day care, but Herc and Scott had their "slight detour" past its doors well established by now, as did most of the other crew with kids on-base. Several of the younger ones were clustered around Max, comforting themselves with the dog as Chuck waited near the door.

"Category IV?" Chuck asked, betraying almost no anxiety.

"Looks that way. We get first crack at him," Scott confirmed and ruffled his hair. "Don't worry 'bout anything, boyo. None of those bastards are a match for three Jaegers."

To Herc's surprise, Chuck kept his eyes on him even as he let Scott hug him. "Three? Who's on your team?"

"Gipsy Danger and Horizon Brave," Herc told him, keeping his voice light. "The same crews we've been doing simulations with for two months."

The loading klaxon rang for both crews. Ten minutes to be on the choppers. Chuck took a hesitant step forward, and Herc closed the distance to meet his son in an awkward hug.

Over Chuck's shoulder, Herc could see Greg Oliver with one arm around Danny's shoulders and Emma, their little girl, on his hip with his wife and her mother crowded around them. Danny was handling it much like Chuck, stoically, but the little one was having to be pried from around her dad's neck. Danny slipped aside so his mum could wrangle his sister, and gave a cautious nod to Herc. "I wish Vulcan was going with you," he muttered.

Herc caught Scott's irritated huff and elbowed his brother in the ribs. "We don't need those girls to watch our backs," Scott retorted. But he softened and clapped the older boy on the shoulders. "We'll be watching the others'. Don't worry, son, we've got your old man covered."

"Oi, I'm _your_ spotter," Greg protested. He pulled free of his daughter's grasp and gave his wife a hurried kiss farewell. Herc dropped his eyes, and when he looked up again, Greg was quickly walking towards them. "Ready, men?"

"Let's do this." Herc gave Chuck a final pat of goodbye, and Greg clapped both boys as he passed.

"You two hold down the fort until we're back!" He shot the Hansens a droll grin as they headed for the loading area. "Whose turn is it to make who apologize if there's a brawl during this dep?"

Herc laughed. "Depends on who throws the first punch."

* * *

_PPDC Deployment Point…  
Manila, Philippines…_

Herc and Scott hadn't seen much of Min and Jing Li since before Horizon Brave launched, back when they'd all been prospective pilots at the new facility in Kodiak. Introductions and reintroductions among the crews were rushed as they arrived on the tarmacs outside the cluster of warehouses on Philippine military headquarters. There was a lot to do to get the Jaegers ready for deployment so far from a Shatterdome.

Herc was so occupied with logistics - checking out the position of the drop crews bringing Lucky in for pre-deployment prep and the spotter and strike troop staging - that he didn't even look twice at the approaching Beckets.

Having come the farthest, Gipsy Danger's staging area was the wildest, and the American Rangers were still making their way towards the Hansens and the Lis when the sirens went off again. Alarms blared, and Rangers and crew went closer to the nearest screens to see the flashing red alerts announcing what K-Watch had predicted.

"Bogey's on the hunt. Twelve hours to drop," reported someone.

_"All personnel, report to stations for orders."_

"Man, so much for a nap," one of the American crew grumbled, jogging past them.

"What, the trans-Pacific flight wasn't enough for you?" Yancy Becket demanded.

"I can't sleep worth a damn on planes! Oh, sorry, no time for formal introductions." He pumped Herc's arm distractedly, then waved in the direction of the Beckets. "I'm Tendo Choi, support chief for Team Gipsy. Hansen, right?"

"Herc. My brother, Scott," said Herc. "Don't worry about it, mate, we'll catch up after."

"Beckets, Hansens!" Choi waved vaguely between his Rangers and Herc and Scott even as he started hurrying away again. "Hansens, Beckets!"

Yancy raised a hand to Herc in greeting, but had to run to catch up with his fast-retreating brother, and they vanished behind a swarm of J-Techs. "TEAM GIPSY! FULL MUNITIONS REVIEW, NINETY MINUTES!" someone bellowed.

"How's Horizon?" Herc asked Jing Li as they moved out of the way of the rushing crews. Until the Jaegers were deemed launch ready, there wouldn't be much for the pilots to do.

"She had the shortest journey of all of us. Temporary headquarters is nearly complete," Jing replied. She gestured to the cluster of buildings where someone had already hung a Horizon Brave banner from an upper ledge. "Coyote Tango was arriving in Hong Kong just as we left."

"At least the B-Team's got a proper Shatterdome to launch from," Scott grumped, eyeing the hangars and warehouses with distaste. "I'm gonna find somewhere to put up my feet."

Herc waved his brother off. As dismissive as Scott could be about the grunt work, he'd keep out of the way and wouldn't wander too far while they were at pre-deployment. "I haven't seen you since Hawaii," remarked Min. It was a tactful way of referring to Kaori Jessop's funeral a year before. "Your Marshal keeps you Australians on a tight leash."

"We haven't got the fleet that you do," Herc pointed out mildly. "I heard you two were across the lake bringing up the next generation of pilots all last year."

"Torturing and terrorizing them, if you've heard them talk," Jing replied, and they all smirked. "Yes, we've been refining the Bushido with Stacker Pentecost and the Fightmasters. The Academy will graduate five more crews this year. Depending on the next few engagements, China and Japan may be ordering another Mark-5 or two." She raised an eyebrow at him. "I hear you and Scott are not long for Lucky Seven after this one."

He shrugged. "Can't be sure of that. We're a bit at odds on it. I'm not sure I want to bid the old girl farewell, but she is due for a major systems overhaul. Any Aussies in this class?"

"I'm afraid not. We had two pairs make the second cut, but…" Jing tilted her head expressively. "To become a Ranger is not easy. Our American teammates joined us after the Clawhook engagement for simulator and team training. They've done very well with the candidates, but there's only so much the instructors can do."

Herc didn't see Scott again until the drop call, but he and the Lis parked themselves outside the fast-growing LOCCENT room and watched the deployment prep and K-watch reports. "Bingham's prediction looks dead-on, as usual," Ketteridge remarked, with the Phillipine general at his side as they studied the kaiju blip traveling steadily to the southwest from the Breach.

"Bogey's making a hundred kilometers per hour, sir," someone called from the K-Watch local station. "He's almost as fast as Keunsango. We can expect the biggest variable to be when he passes between us and Taiwan."

"What's the status of the other teams?"

"Hong Kong reports full deployment readiness: Coyote Tango, Vulcan Specter, and Crimson Typhoon. Cherno Alpha, Nova Hyperion, and Shaolin Rogue are preparing for deployment at Xiogang, Taiwan in case he veers north," said Choi. "Final pre-dep checks should be complete for Gipsy Danger in the next thirty minutes, Cherno Alpha reporting sixty minutes." He frowned as he listened to something over his headset. "Hey, anybody from Lucky or Horizon, can we get some pod link techs in here? Team Cherno's having some link issues."

A group of Horizon Brave's pod crew clustered around the comm station to confer with their fellow Mark-1 crew. Herc raised his eyebrows at Min Li as Choi hovered close to weigh in on the conversation – or rather, to move in on one of Horizon's pretty techs. Min glared, but Jing just grinned, and as they all headed off for their own deployment, the Lis were still muttering back and forth in Mandarin.

"What's so funny?" Scott wanted to know as he joined Herc in Lucky's conn-pod.

Giving him a wink, Herc opened the comm channel to Horizon Brave and Gipsy Danger. " _Tell your LOCCENT chief to leave our link crew alone, Gipsy,"_ Min Li was admonishing.

There were two simultaneous groans in response from Gipsy's comm. _"Lemme guess,"_ said one.

_"_ _Our man Tendo's bringin' the Shatterdome drama, must be a day that ends in Y,"_ finished the other.

" _Hey, I heard that!_ " protested Choi, barging into the discussion from LOCCENT.

Herc added, "And he resembles that remark."

Jing Li was laughing. " _Lu can take care of herself._ "

_"_ _He's harmless, Horizon. Just tell your girls to knee him in the balls,_ " suggested one of the Beckets. " _And Tendo? Save it for_ after _the kill, 'kay? We've got work to do."_

" _Yeaaah, siiiir,_ " Choi whined.

"Sounds like Chuck," Scott muttered, but they were grinning. "Are we expecting contact before sunrise?"

" _Depends on whether he decides to circle Luzon, Lucky Seven. Right now, he's looking like he may come at you from the east; if he does, we'll drop you around Pollilo. If he comes around, K-Watch is still predicting Manila, but that'll be five or six more hours depending on how much he slows down_."

"Great. Another long wait standing up," Scott huffed.

"Eh, recline your rig and take a nap," Herc told him. His brother could whine as bad as Chuck sometimes.

It was dull and a little less than comfortable hanging around in the conn-pod for hours, but it came with the territory just like everything else. The kaiju, codenamed Meathead – _really?!_ \- did end up taking the long way around the islands, and the Rangers passed the time dozing, playing remote games with each other and their crews, and making plans for post-engagement festivities.

" _General Santiago wants to know if you lot are interested in a tour of the facilities afterward,_ " Marshal Ketteridge told him. " _He's quite proud of the PPDC recruiting office's class this year. So far they have forty past pre-screening for the next Academy class."_

_"_ _Nice job!_ " said one of the Beckets. " _Do you guys have have pre-screen Bushido training?_ "

" _We do, Ranger. You're welcome to join us in our Kwoon and put it to the test assuming everyone is up to it, God willing,"_ said the Phillipine liaison.

" _Puma, Chrome, and Mammoth had a sparring tournament after the October engagement,_ " said the other Becket. Herc was pretty sure it was the younger one. _"Last Ranger standing took on the Academy's finest._ "

Jing and Min chorused, " _We're in!_ " and laughter rang out over the comm.

" _I hadn't heard about that; who won?_ " someone asked from LOCCENT.

" _Ken Gould, Mammoth Two,_ " Min reported. " _Fightmaster Tessori holds the title for the Academy._ "

_"_ _Surprise, surprise,_ " chuckled one of the Beckets.

Their comms buzzed, and they heard klaxons echoing in LOCCENT from their speakers. _"Ladies and gentlemen, target has cleared the Babuyan Islands, now traveling due south. Prepare for deployment._ "

_"_ _Good call, K-Watch,_ " said one of the Beckets as the pod crews swarmed into Lucky for final checks.

"What's our ETA to contact point?" asked Herc.

" _Present speed, ninety minutes. Current drop destination is just outside the mouth of Manila Bay,"_ Marshal Ketteridge told them. _"Horizon Brave, you have mission command._ "

They hadn't initiated the neural handshake yet, but Herc didn't even have to look to know Scott was annoyed. But the Lis' initial decision mollified him. " _Understood, Marshal, but we want Lucky Seven to take point._ "

Scott blinked, and Herc grinned. _"Aw, man,"_ whined one of the Beckets playfully. Probably Raleigh.

"Pipe down, whippersnapper," Herc retorted, laughing. "What are you thinking, Horizon? Want us to light the bastard up a few times first before you freeze him or fry him?"

" _Exactly. Put some of your charges and spears into him. We'll try to triangulate him and freeze that tail off. Gipsy Danger, for the torso with your plasma."_

" _Copy that, Horizon,"_ said Yancy. " _Our drop crew is ready for liftoff. Which flank do you want us on?"_

_"_ _Lucky's right. We'll be on the left._ "

All seemed well once they were dropped in the shallows of Manila Bay, watching the kaiju's signature growing on the HUD. Through the handshake, Herc could sense Scott's pride in their position at the point of the triangle, but at least with Meathead now visible on the spectrometers, his eyes were on the job. "These buggers are getting skinnier, you noticed? They don't present as big a target."

"Yeah, faster, too. Let's put a couple of Tiffanies into him first. That'll help keep a lock on him," Herc mused. "Oi, Gipsy, get a look at those arms. If we can get him on his back, think you can blow 'em off?"

_"_ _Just watch us! Especially if Horizon cryo-freezes anything; the plasma will snap what's left in half._ "

_"_ _That's the plan,_ " Jing agreed.

On their visible screens, something broke the surface that was no ship or island. " _Holy Christ, the SIZE of that guy!_ " someone exclaimed in LOCCENT.

Herc checked the tactical display. "ETA to contact point, less than ten minutes. Here we go! _"_

" _Slow him down fast. The last few have been really evasive, Lucky._ "

On the furthest edges of their screen, they could see Gipsy skirting the shoreline to the north, hoping to cut off Meathead's escape. _Just hope our little mates don't get excited and start shooting plasma when we close with him,_ thought Scott.

_And on that same note, watch where you're aiming the woomera,_ Herc thought back. "Horizon, Gipsy, you ready?"

" _You're clear, Lucky!_ "

" _That's a go, Lucky Seven, light him up!_ "

They launched their electromagnetic "cannonballs" for the thickest part of the kaiju's torso. The first one missed, but then the monster roared and reared out of the water, and the HUD flashed with three signals from its body. "We've hit him! Let's reel him in!"

The bastard didn't turn tail, unlike some of his predecessors, but tried to dodge between Lucky and Gipsy, which put him on a course straight into Manila Bay and its millions of shoreline inhabitants. _"Lucky, watch that tail!_ " Gipsy warned, and Herc and Scott ducked under a swipe of the massive barb. _"Firing plasma for the front!_ "

Herc and Scott couldn't see it past the massive body, but the roaring recoil that almost put Meathead on top of them was proof enough that Gipsy had scored a hit. " _Nice shot!_ " Min shouted. As the creature writhed, they saw that one of its massive horns had been shortened almost in half. " _Tighten it up!_ "

One of the Beckets roared a challenge, and Herc caught a fleeting glimpse of Gipsy Danger charging forward, her logo bright in the mid-morning sun…

_Gipsy's logo on an oversized jacket below a long, dark braid…_

Images and recollections flickered through the drift even in the heightened adrenaline of combat. That was nothing new. Sometimes Herc ran his mind through an engagement or a sim and found that the last thing he saw each time he fired a weapon or struck a blow was Chuck's face. Or Angela's face.

_A woman's face – no, a girl, but not Angie, much younger, looking over her shoulder above a Gipsy Danger jacket that was much too big for her… "Ranger? Are you looking for something?_ " _Her voice was soft and shy; she couldn't be old enough to be Gipsy's crew, but that made adrenaline simmer in him –_

"What the hell – SCOTT!" _OOF!_ Herc's next _woomera_ shot missed as the kaiju hip-checked them, and the spear went flying off over the shoreline.

"Dammit – sorry!" Scott grunted. They stumbled clear of the lashing tail to regroup and clear a zone for Horizon to open up her cryo-cannons. _Hope that spear didn't hit anything._

_"_ _Bringin' the Shatterdome drama" –_ what had he told Scott about sniffing around crews?! Herc shook his head, and they both forced themselves back to alignment. Now wasn't the time. He'd bitch his brother out after this fucker was dead.

" _Target acquired – Lucky, get clear!_ "

_Wide eyes and long hair and awe – also fear – target acquired –_

_\- What the fuck?!_

Adrenaline flashed through their veins that didn't come from the monster they were fighting.

" _Lucky! Herc, you're going out of alignment!_ " shouted someone in LOCCENT.

"Quit it, Herc." Herc could feel Scott's heart starting to pound, his stomach churning, not from the charge of the fight. "Herc! We're in the middle of an engagement here!"

Herc grunted, and they managed to get back into alignment and deflected a slash from the skinny front legs. Horizon Brave was trying to get behind it to take out that damned eel tail – _they slipped past the guards through the abandoned streets of the exclusion zone, and she had no idea, and he liked that -_

_\- HERC!_ They didn't have time for this, they didn't have _time for this,_ but it was starting to press around them in the drift now, like every thought, every memory that a Ranger tried _not_ to see.

You couldn't push it away, you couldn't hold it back. The more you tried to stifle it, the harder a memory pushed back until the handshake failed…

_A big hand wrapped around a skinny wrist, easily pushing it away – target acquired…_

_Herc, stop. STOP!_

_Dark hair and big eyes and fear – he liked the fear, liked teaching them a lesson –_

_What the fucking hell am I seeing?_

What the hell was he remembering? The handshake wavered, because Herc was pulling, trying to understand what this was, but Scott was resisting. Herc didn't know why, didn't understand, there was something they were supposed to be doing now but someone had been scared and he couldn't figure out why the hell Scott would _like_ that -

" – _Lucky! LUCKY SEVEN, what's going on?!"_

WHAM – something slammed into their left side and they staggered; Scott lost concentration, and like the dropped rope in a tug-of-war, Herc went flying…

_Where's the challenge in Jaeger flies? The thrill is in the chase…_

_How old was she, twenty-one? Little bitch was too old anyway…_

_Screaming – gasps – small hands trying to push bigger ones away –_

" _Hercules! Scott, do you hear me?! Gipsy, Lucky's in trouble!_ "

The dam was broken and they were falling, flailing, and Herc could see – he could _see_ \- _oh my god…_ faces. Tears. He _remembered_. Not Herc's memory – but now it was. Scott tried to shove his mind's eyes away – they crashed helplessly, buffeted from outside and inside, but the blows were nothing to the horror at remembering fear, remembering _pleasure…_

_Oh my God._ Herc saw. And he knew.

"Warning: both hemispheres out of alignment."

" _LUCKY, you need to move! We can't freeze –_ " There was a roar and a crash and they were falling –

_"_ _Hang on, Horizon!_ "

" _Gipsy, Horizon's hit! You've gotta get him away from them!_ "

" _Cannon charging, hang on!_ "

Sparks flew and pain lanced through them, but the neural handshake was breaking – the power was failing, but Herc was tearing himself away.

Too much, too much, too wrong, too sick, he couldn't, not this – Scott was screaming and he was roaring – rage and disgust and hate and fear – they both wanted these memories to stop. Herc in fury and Scott in panic, and the memories _wouldn't stop,_ unless… his brain pulled and he ripped away. No more, no more.

He wasn't sure whether the power in the conn-pod failed or one or both of their brains did, but the drift and the handshake crumbled, and Lucky crumbled with it, shattered and twisted in the muddy water. The drift flooded away leaving only the ghost drift behind, so comforting before, lingering like a stench now.

Gasping, coughing, Herc clawed free of the rig; there was water in the conn-pod. The pod was compromised, but they must still be in the shallows, or they'd be sinking. Scott was struggling to right himself, and their eyes met. Terror flashed through the ghost drift, and Herc threw himself at his brother. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"

He wanted to rip out the part of his brain that calmed from touching Scott, more so when his brother stammered, wild-eyed, "J-just – fantasy - "

"LIAR!" They'd drifted long enough to know the difference. Herc remembered now. He knew. His hands wrapped around Scott's neck, and Scott scrambled away. There was no point in asking anymore. Scott would lie. He was a liar. He was a coward. He was a…

_What are you what are you whatareyouwhatareyouwhoareyou…_

The conn-pod lurched and threw them off balance. There was noise outside; the clang of machinery and helicopter blades broke through the roaring in Herc's ears. R&R, instinct told him. Lucky Seven was down. They'd be coming to find the pilots. Scott huddled at the base of his rig like a scared kid.

Like… _a scared, huddling girl under the bridge in Sydney…he hadn't meant it to go like that, but then he'd liked it. So during down time in Manila, he'd found another target._

"I'm sorry," his brother whispered. _Scaredhurt…don't hate me, Herc…_ "I'm sorry, it… I fucked up. Please, I won't do it again!"

The pod swayed. Someone pounded on the outside of the hatch, voices shouted their names.

_Please, please…_ Scott pulled himself to his feet, desperate, aching – the drift pulled at Herc, trying to draw him towards his brother –

_You're a fucking monster._

"You know I'm not." _You know I'm a good man. I just… made a mistake. I won't ever do it again, I swear it._ Scott looked up as metal whined and groaned around the hatch from whatever the crews were doing to cut through it. "We have to move on," he pleaded. "I'm your brother, Herc, I'm your _partner!_ We can get through this! You can't - "

" – Can't what?" he breathed.

_You can't leave me. You're my partner, my brother, Herc, Herc, Herc, you can't think like this, we've got a Mark-5 waiting for us, it'll be okay! Just tell me it'll be okay, you can't report me, they'd arrest me, you can't, what'll we do? You have to forgive me, you have to let it go –_

_"_ _NO!_ " Herc felt like a massive rubber band was trying to drag him back towards Scott, and he was pushing against it to spin away and stagger towards the hatch. He couldn't muster the coordination to get it open, or maybe it was broken and fused somehow. He pounded on it, shouting, "I'm here! OPEN IT! GET IT OUT!"

_Get me out, get me away, get me away from him, never again, we're not moving on, no more "we," no more "us," not partners, not brothers, not me and you, never again –_

"What about Chuck?!" Scott cried, at the top of physical and mental lungs. Herc reeled and slid to the floor – or rather, the wall, since the conn-pod was on its side – rather than let himself start moving back towards that pull, to surrender to it. "How could you – what'll you tell him? You can't take me away from him, you know I love him, Herc, you know it! You and me, we're all he has!"

_You won't do that to him, right, Herc? You won't do that to me. You won't, I know you won't. I know you're mad, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but you can't, you CAN'T!"_

Sparks flew and drops of metal sizzled on his drive suit as the hatch exploded in, and Herc was throwing himself at it even as the crew outside tried to stop it. "GET ME OUT! Get me out of here!"

"Herc, hang on! I've got Lucky One! Scott? Scott, you okay?"

Herc wrenched his helmet off and started vomiting as arms wrapped around him, trying to pull him towards the rig. A double rig, to lift them up into the rescue chopper together. Jaeger pilots, always together, but – no. He roared and kicked, and the conn-pod rocked under his feet – people cursed – he overbalanced himself and one of his captors into the rig. It was Greg Oliver, trying to calm him down, insisting they would have Scott in a minute. "NO! Don' let that fucker near - take off, take off!"

"Herc, for the love of - "

"What's wrong with him?! Head injury?"

"I don't bloody know!"

As they wrangled on the rig and the R&R team chattered in confusion, Herc _felt_ the pull of the drift again and turned his head to see Scott appearing through the hatch, dazed and bruised and tears cutting tracks on his face –

_No._ Herc twisted and grabbed Greg's shoulders. "Call the MPs," he hissed. Greg froze. "Tell them to search the vehicle repair buildings on the south side of the Manila base, near the exit to the city… and in Sydney, on the edge of the exclusion zone, under the Tear Canal bridge…"

It gradually got quiet around them as it dawned on Greg and the listeners what Herc was saying. What he was reporting. Herc was sprawled on the chopper's lift rig still, but his mind felt like he was trying to pull himself up a frozen, ice-slicked hill, with gravity and momentum and weight and every part of his consciousness trying to send him back down to the other side…

It was pulling at him, the ghost drift, but he would not, _would not_ go. Never again.

Disbelief and shock and hurt and betrayal shrieked through the ghost drift like a dying kaiju's roars, and he was airborne and rising away from the other half – half of him relieved but the other half screaming in the sheer agony of the separation. Voices floated around him, and he was dimly aware of Greg, who hadn't let go of him and was talking to the crew as he pulled them out of the rig into the chopper cabin. "It's all right, mate. It's all right. Let's go."

"But what about Lucky Two - "

"MPs are on their way. Just get us back to base. We've got this, Herc. You're all right now."

Herc slumped on the chopper's cabin floor, submitting listlessly to the manhandling of the crews searching for injuries and answers, too exhausted and torn apart to give a damn what anyone thought. Their conversation drifted around him as he drifted in space, searching for anything at all to keep his attention away from the black hole trying to suck him back down.

"The MPs are on the site by the Katipunan Avenue fence, they say they found… Jesus Christ. How'd he know?"

"He must've seen it in the drift. Mate, I'm so sorry. Good God." Greg was rubbing Herc's shoulders as the R&R crew pried the battle armor off. "We didn't know. We knew he was an ass, but not that…" He tugged Herc's arm until Herc looked at him. "You need a doctor?"

_Need? I need… Need ScottScottScott – no. No Scott. No drift, no handshake._ Herc dragged his mind back and managed to focus enough to test his limbs. "No. No doctor. I'm fine."

_What do I do now?_

He hadn't thought he said it aloud, but Greg had an answer for him, one that Herc could cling to as desperately as he'd normally be clinging to his other half. "We're gonna get you home, mate. Home to Chuck. You did the right thing, a damn brave thing. You let us look after you now, and we'll get you back to your son."

_Chuck. My son, yes, I want my son. I need my son._

He was drifting and helpless, with nothing to anchor him now, no one to ground him, and no reason to try to find the ground again except Chuck.

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** Yancy Becket's POV as Gipsy's pilots learn the reason for Lucky Seven's sudden breakdown and take stock of the terrible toll of Scott Hansen's actions. Herc struggles to stay sane in the aftermath as his bitterness and shame seek out an unsuspecting target in **Chapter Fourteen: So Torn Up With Envy!**_
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Major James Bingham: A former British Army officer in his 60s, now the senior Response Tactician of K-Watch, he tracks the kaiju and presides over forecasting where they're heading.
> 
> Marshal Blake Ketteridge: Commanding Officer of Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force.
> 
> Greg Oliver: Herc's comrade and fellow chopper pilot from before K-Day, now a support pilot for Lucky Seven. Like Herc, he joined the Jaeger Program in the wake of Scissure. He lost his parents and his oldest daughter, Karina, in the attack.
> 
> Daniel (Danny) Oliver: Greg's son, age 17, who survived Scissure along with his little sister, Emma. He and Chuck have a lot in common, but lack the maturity to empathize at this stage in their lives. Both boys dream of joining the Jaeger Program as pilots.
> 
> Min and Jing Li: Brother and sister in their late 30s, Chinese Air Force officers and China's first Jaeger pilots, they helped shape the program that would become the Jaeger Academy and recruited many talented people into the program, including a certain set of triplets.


	14. So Torn Up With Envy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gipsy Danger's pilots learn the reason for Lucky Seven's breakdown and the terrible toll of Scott Hansen's actions. Herc struggles to stay sane in the aftermath as his bitterness and shame seek out an unsuspecting target.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** Many thanks to everyone for all the wonderful reviews! Please keep them coming! The title of this chapter is part of a quote from M*A*S*H*: "I'm so torn up with envy, I almost hate him." This chapter includes a couple of OCs who were first introduced in Aurora Borealis at the Jaeger Academy with Raleigh, Yancy, and Tendo. And among the many other reasons this chapter is a painful one, it was also rather sad to write, because this is the last time we will see Yancy's POV._

**Chapter Fourteen: So Torn Up With Envy**

_December 17, 2019…  
Manila Bay, Philippines…_

Yancy and Raleigh took stock as they slogged out of the bay to the nearest shoreline. "I think we're good," Raleigh panted into the comm. "No major damage… we took a swipe on the back of the neck, over to the right shoulder fin, but it didn't penetrate. Hydraulic pressure's good, drop gear's intact. Any word on Lucky and Horizon?"

" _Nothing yet. Horizon's evac pods auto-jettisoned, so we're trying to locate them. R &R is still working on Lucky_," Tendo told them.

How the hell had it all gone so wrong so suddenly? Neither of them could figure it out.

One minute, they'd all been triangulating Meathead just like the Lis planned, pounding that bastard on three sides. Horizon had been moving in, ready to deploy her cryo cannon and freeze that tail so they could start dismembering him from back to front… then Lucky had stopped responding. Nobody could explain what had happened. They'd heard the Hansens shouting, then Tendo reported Lucky's handshake was breaking down, and the kaiju had been on the motionless Jaeger.

Gipsy and Horizon had had to move fast and just drag Meathead away, and they'd thought again that they had him – but then that fucking tail had wrapped around Horizon's upper body and torn into the conn-pod. Raleigh and Yancy had a new set of drivesuit burns on both their arms from emptying both plasma cannons into the bastard's chest and face.

_Is this what all the Category Fours'll be like?_ Raleigh wondered at him.

_Dunno, kiddo. I really fucking hope not._ "LOCCENT, we're coming ashore on the island. I think the drop gear's okay, but we're not leaving until we know the status of the other crews," he announced.

" _We're with you all the way, Yancy. Confirmed you can power down. I'll have a chopper come pick you up and bring you back to base."_

This was the best shape they'd been in after an engagement so far, but there wasn't much room for celebration as they flew back to the base from a bay full of smoking wreckage.

"The Hansens are alive," Christian Warner, one of their drivesuit techs, told them as he helped them out of their armor. "Still no word on the Lis. Horizon's partially submerged."

"Damn it." Free of his gear, Yancy got dressed and slung an arm around Raleigh. "Can we do anything?"

"I doubt it, man – hang on…" Christian put a hand to his earpiece, then turned to the nearest vid screen. "Actually, we've got Vulcan on the line from Hong Kong. Wanna talk to 'em?"

"Yeah, sure." The video feed shifted to Devi and Susanti, looking like they'd just de-suited too, in a drivesuit room in another Shatterdome. "Hey, guys."

The Hassans let out their breath in unison. "I'm so glad you two are all right," Devi breathed.

" _We_ are, and word is the Hansens are safe, but R&R's still looking for Team Horizon," Yancy admitted. It gave him a twinge of shame, having to talk about an engagement gone so horribly wrong. Even if he and Raleigh hadn't screwed anything up… it felt like there should've been something they could do to prevent it. He felt Raleigh's arm around him tighten.

"What _happened?_ " Suze demanded, but she sounded more anguished than accusing. "It all looked great, and then…"

He raised his hands helplessly, aware of Raleigh doing the same. "Seriously, Suze, we have no freaking idea yet. It all went straight to hell – maybe a mechanical failure, or an injury we didn't see, but…" He caught himself from just blurting out that Lucky had simply stopped moving. Better not to ignite the rumor mill. They really didn't know and couldn't start throwing around guess of what was going on. The investigation was certainly under way already. He gave their friends a weary smile. "I guess it's better not to speculate."

The girls nodded. "Yeah, you're right." Devi glanced off to the side as someone called out to her, then wrinkled her nose. "Damn, Sydney Marshal's already wanting us back in Sydney yesterday. With Lucky down, we're short until the Mark-5 is finished. Listen… we'll be in touch, but if you see Herc or any of Team Lucky, tell them to call if they need anything."

"Will do," said Raleigh. "Sorry we didn't get to see you in the flesh this time. We'll just hope for the best all around."

"Give our love to Team Gipsy. Safe trip back home."

"You too."

Yancy slumped against Raleigh as the screen went dark. Christian looked up from the crates where he was re-stowing the drivesuit gear. "You guys want to find somewhere to lie down? You could use a rest."

"Nah, we're okay for now. Not 'till we know about Lucky and Horizon…" Yancy trailed off. Somewhere out in the main work area, people were yelling.

_Shit, what now?_

Of all the things they expected to see out in Gipsy's temporary headquarters, Herc Hansen manhandling one of _their_ crew wasn't on the list. "The hell?!" Raleigh blurted, and Yancy was already running.

"Sir, I don't know what you're talking about!" the bewildered pod tech was exclaiming. Herc had her by the shoulders, and a couple of Lucky Seven's support crew were trying to pull him back.

"What the hell's going on?!" Yancy demanded.

Hansen was wild-eyed, bruised and bloody and looking like he was either on the verge of a psychotic episode or just collapsing on the spot. His crew looked torn between embarrassment, confusion, and meltdowns of their own. "Herc, slow down," urged the dark-skinned engineer on one side of him. "You're not making any sense."

There was no sign of Scott Hansen. But Hercules released Gipsy's tech when his eyes fell on the Beckets, and Yancy hurried to get between them.

"Sir, what's the matter?" Raleigh asked urgently.

For a few seconds, Herc just stared at Raleigh, looking dazed and haunted, as if Raleigh was the only person he could see. Then he blinked and looked at Yancy, then his crew, then searched Gipsy's crew. "Where's your brother?" Yancy asked.

That had to be it, though he had no idea why Herc would be looking for Scott here –

\- or maybe not. Lucky's crew flinched and hissed as if Yancy'd just broached a seriously taboo subject.

_Something is_ incredibly _not right,_ he heard/felt Raleigh muse silently, and the way Team Lucky's people were cringing under all the stares only confirmed it.

Slowly, Yancy looked around. They had quite a crowd of baffled bystanders now. "Okay." He beckoned Lucky's crew to the nearest of the smaller rooms with a door, then looked around to his people. "All of you, back to work, and do _not_ start swapping theories. If any gossip comes out of here, I'll demerit your asses myself, got it?"

"Yes, sir," came a hurried, collective mutter, and the onlookers scattered. Most of Team Lucky backed off except for the man and woman who ushered Herc behind Raleigh and Yancy into the semi-private conference space. "Okay," he said, once Christian had shut the door and nodded to confirm they had no eavesdroppers. "Tell me what's going on."

Hansen had calmed down somewhat, but still looked to be in shock. "There's a girl on your crew," he said, his voice a hard, almost feral growl. "A little girl. Long dark hair, in a braid. I need to find her."

Raleigh and Yancy knew at once who he had to mean, but Raleigh elbowed Christian when he would have blurted it out. Yancy exchanged a wary glance with his brother. "Why? You need to give me more than that."

Hansen blinked at them, but his crewman squeezed his shoulder. "They're Rangers, Herc. You can tell them," he prompted quietly. "You want me to explain?" His gentle voice reminded Yancy vaguely of something… or someone, trying to keep his pilot calm when said pilot was falling apart.

Herc Hansen looked like he was about to crack apart. And when he spoke – the horror of it ricocheted between Yancy and Raleigh's heads, and they both couldn't fathom how the man was still standing.

"Scott may have hurt her. I need to find her. Find out what he did to her."

Even Team Lucky's crew stiffened, like they hadn't known the true reason until now. Yancy didn't trust his voice, but Raleigh turned to Christian. "He means Lea. Go find her, and keep it quiet." Christian nodded and slipped out.

Herc was staring at Raleigh again. Yancy stepped cautiously closer. "Are you okay?"

Now the man's eyes seemed to focus a little more, and he shot Yancy a vaguely disgusted look. "What do you bloody think?"

"All right, fair enough," he muttered.

When Christian returned a few minutes later with Lea – and Tendo – relief made Raleigh _and_ Yancy a little dizzy. But Herc Hansen in this state was making them all nervous, to say nothing of how Lea reacted. He started toward her, eyes getting crazed again, and Yancy and Raleigh both jumped between them. "Hey!"

"What'd he do?" Herc growled, and now Tendo was in front of Lea too. "Did he hurt you? What the hell'd he do?"

"Herc, _easy!_ " the engineer near-pleaded, as she and Lucky's crewman physically held Herc back.

This wasn't going to work. _If Scott fucking Hansen touched her, I'll kill him myself._ Was that Yancy's thought or Raleigh's? Well, it didn't really matter.

_Rals, take her out of here. Take them all out. I'll talk to him._ Yancy motioned to Lucky's crew. "Step out. Let me talk to him."

They eyed him, more worried about what their Ranger would do, but given the man's condition, Yancy didn't doubt he'd be able to keep things under control even if Herc did flip out. Not that he or Raleigh would blame the poor bastard if he did. Yancy couldn't even imagine… and really didn't want to. Team Lucky was as devoted to their Rangers as Team Gipsy, but slowly, hesitantly, they yielded. They were all in unfamiliar territory now, and Yancy held what dubious rank-based command there was.

Once they'd gone, he moved closer to Herc, as if the older Ranger were a wounded animal. "You saw something in the drift," he concluded. It wasn't really a question. No longer meeting Yancy's eyes, Herc nodded. "Tell me what you saw with her. I'll talk to her. I _will_ find out." He might just go hunt Scott Hansen down depending on the answer, but Herc didn't need to know that. "It won't help freaking her out. She's… very shy."

He would have pegged Herc Hansen for being forty at most before this engagement. Now the man looked like he'd aged another forty years. After a long, dazed silence, he muttered, "I don't know if he touched her. I just saw him… crowding her. How old's she?"

"She's Raleigh's age, older than she looks. Do you know when it was? Today?"

"Think so."

Outside, Raleigh was already picking up the gist of the situation from the ghost drift and had pulled Lea aside, questioning her more gently than Herc was capable of at the moment. Lea was nervous, but to Yancy and Raleigh's shared relief, it didn't seem that Scott Hansen had harmed her.

After a few minutes, she and Raleigh came back in. "He… came up behind me during the systems checks, sir. Last night. He… just startled me, and… sort of got really close." Yancy could feel his and Raleigh's blood boiling, but they both clamped down on it. Neither Herc nor Lea needed them flipping out. "He seemed like it was just a joke, and when the other techs were coming back, he went off. That's all I saw of him."

Yancy wondered before he could stop himself, just what might have happened if the "other techs" hadn't come back. _Oh, Jesus. Holy shit._

"Thanks, Lea," said Raleigh, ushering her out, then shut the door and came back to Yancy's side. Now Herc was staring at Raleigh again, as if looking for something, but when his gaze flicked to Yancy, it hardened, as if Yancy had offended him somehow.

It made Yancy uneasy, but Raleigh mentally shrugged it off. Guy probably had no idea which way was up at this point. Then Tendo rapped on the door, and came in with Lucky's anxious crew. Seizing the opportunity, Yancy nudged his brother gently. _Tendo may know something from LOCCENT. Check on the crew, make sure they're not gossiping out there. I'll fill you in later._ Better that they should keep the audience minimal.

Raleigh shot him a dubious look, but he went. Yancy looked at Tendo, who looked apologetically at Team Lucky, then explained quietly, "Scott Hansen's been arrested."

All the facts were pointing to that, but it still thudded down into Yancy's guts to hear it out loud. Herc wandered to the window, gazing out as his crew looked after him with anguished eyes. "We didn't know he'd tried anything with Corps personnel," the engineer murmured. "Herc just… he saw your crew jackets and remembered…"

_He had a drift flashback and realized he'd seen Scott bothering Lea,_ Yancy concluded, and managed not to shudder.

"Lea Franklin's not even regular Gipsy crew," Tendo explained. "She's Senior Engineering; it's cold in the server rooms, so one of the munitions techs loaned her a jacket."

"She's older than she looks," Yancy explained awkwardly, trying to reassure them. "She just looks like a kid."

As if he was talking to himself rather than any of them, Herc mumbled absently, "He likes 'em young."

_Holy fuck, I could've gone the rest of my life without knowing that._ "We didn't know," Lucky's crewman said, sounding desperate. "None of us knew, not even Herc until today."

"I'm sorry." Now Yancy's throat tightened up at the raw agony in Herc's voice. "I thought he was a good man."

_I'm sorry._ Yancy bit his tongue to keep from saying it. He doubted it would be comforting. But he made himself think. "So it wasn't… she wasn't the only girl that he…" Lucky's dazed officers shook their heads. _Oh God, oh God, oh God._

"The MPs already found a body..." Tendo trailed off, and Yancy wondered why the temperature in the room had dropped so fast.

For what miserable comfort it was, Yancy looked from Tendo to Herc and his crew. "Sir… I promise you that what's been said here won't be discussed outside the official investigation. Not by me, not by my crew." Tendo nodded firmly. Raleigh would know, of course, but they both knew he wouldn't gossip either, and either one of the Beckets could speak for them both. "I'll also make sure Lea told the truth, though I'm pretty sure she did."

Herc's support crew nodded, and the woman gave him a weak half-smile. "Thank you, Ranger Becket. Thank you."

Herc didn't thank him, but Yancy didn't really expect him to. He decided to let them have some privacy, and left them with Tendo at his heels. "Make the rounds _fast._ We keep our mouths _shut_ , even to each other."

"I'll make sure. Word'll get around, but not from Team Gipsy," Tendo promised.

Lea was waiting at Raleigh's side. "You okay?" Yancy asked her.

She nodded. "I'd forgotten all about it until now. He didn't hurt me," she repeated, seeing Raleigh and Yancy's anxiety.

An announcement echoed over the loudspeaker: _"Engineering personnel, report to command post."_

"I'll walk you," Raleigh offered, but Lea shook her head.

"It's okay, you don't need to. Though…" she took off the oversize jacket. "Can someone run this back to Alison in Munitions?"

"I got it," said Tendo, glancing at the name tag. "Begay, Alison Begay. I'll drop it off to her during my rounds. You guys get some rest," he told Raleigh and Yancy.

With that attended to, once Lea and Tendo were on their way, Yancy tugged Raleigh to the side and practically grabbed him. They slipped behind the growing stacks of equipment and machinery being prepared to go back to the US, and hugged, long, silent, and fiercely. _Jesus._

It passed through the ghost drift, what Yancy had learned, with surges of horror and rage and disgust. A Ranger, one of their own, a Jaeger pilot trusted with protecting the whole human race had done something like this. Betrayed them all, including his partner.

As work resumed, they got themselves out from under the tech crews' feet and headed down to Horizon's temporary headquarters to wait for news of Jing and Min Li. It surprised both of them when Herc appeared too, but word hadn't reached Team Horizon yet, and true to Yancy's word, no one on Team Gipsy talked. Herc appeared calmer as the hours passed, and even occasionally talked to some of Horizon's crew.

Late in the evening, when the searchers finally found Min and Jing's bodies, Yancy started to dutifully move among Horizon Brave's crew to console whoever he could. Raleigh kept a grip on him. It was… a relief, having him close by, and more than once he threw self-consciousness to the wind and just hugged his brother right there. There were plenty of people embracing, though there weren't many tears being shed among the personnel (not openly, anyway).

So it startled Yancy a little when he lifted his head from Raleigh's shoulder at one point and saw Herc watching them again. The look he shot Yancy… it was as if Herc couldn't stand the sight of him.

* * *

Herc wondered if he could blame everything on drift shock. Maybe it was just delirium from the bond he'd forcibly broken that made him want to beat the living shit out of Yancy bloody Becket.

Well, for what it was worth, he didn't feel that way _every_ time he saw the little snot.

Just whenever he saw Yancy and his brother together. _What's so special about you, hey? That you've got a kid brother like that, what'd you do to deserve him?_

Then remorse swept over him like a tsunami, and he flipped the reasoning around. Maybe it was more a question of what Herc Hansen had done to make Scott Hansen the man and monster he was. And for the answer to that, he had plenty of clues. _I'm the one who failed to make him a better person. What sort of example did he have?_

And considering the bitterness Herc kept flinging in his mind at a near-stranger who was visibly looking out for everyone … maybe it really was no wonder that Scott was a complete sociopath.

_I never treated any woman like that. I told him to stop…_

Herc realized… he'd told Scott not to treat "decent women" like that. "Respectable" women. He'd worried about the Hassans, about the female pilots and crew, about the little engineer in Gipsy Danger's jacket.

But no matter who the girls were that he'd seen in the drift… no matter if Scott had picked them up from street corners or strip joints or the seediest red light brothel on the planet. No girl deserved to end up where Scott Hansen had left them, the way he'd left them.

Even found out, Scott had been sorry for Herc, for himself and Chuck. Not those girls.

It was all Herc could do not to claw at the sides of his head trying to get the images out and make the drift stop fucking _pulling_ at him, to silence the part of his heart that was wailing in an endless chant: _ScottScottScottScott…_ and still wanted his brother, wanted to pretend Scott hadn't done what he'd done, _anything_ to get his other half back to him.

He and Scott had never consciously referred to themselves or each other that way. Angela alone had held that title, and the same for any other married man, but it was an awareness between them and the other pilots. They were always two halves. Stacker Pentecost had warned them that the further apart they were, the harder the bond pulled. Work and travel might pull teams apart from time to time, but even Stacker and Tamsin had the consolation that they could reunite when they had to, in the end. Like Duc and Kaori Jessop, like Jiro and Hayase Shindo.

But not Herc and Scott Hansen. Not now. Not ever.

And that broken drift was a screaming, burning spiral of grief and rage now, and he was staggering on and wondering if there was any chance he'd survive with his sanity intact.

He smothered his mental chanting for Scott with mental chanting for Chuck, and snarled and growled at Marshal Ketteridge that he needed clearance to get back to Sydney. He didn't give a damn how confused or embarrassed Ketteridge was amid trying to stifle the scandal. Only Kyrra, Greg, and the rest of Lucky's crews kept him from taking a swing at the Marshal.

After tracking down the girl from Team Gipsy that Scott had slimed (thank God it seemed that all he'd done was slime her), Herc wandered with his frazzled escorts down to Horizon Brave's headquarters to see if there was word on Min and Jing.

_I'm sorry. It's my fault. I couldn't stop the monster from getting to them because it turned out I was drifting with one._

It seemed Team Horizon still didn't know that it was Team Lucky's fault. Herc might have had an easier time of waiting with them if the Beckets hadn't had the same idea. But he managed to scrape up the scruples not to wander off, and had to see Yancy and Raleigh there the whole time. He tried to avoid looking at them.

Raleigh wasn't the laughing, carefree youth that Herc remembered from Anchorage three years ago, but there was still an innocence about him. Pretty damn remarkable for one of the team who now had four kills to their name. Or maybe that was the key.

_Of course, Yancy bloody Becket has a better brother than me, a better Jaeger, a better battle score than me. He's a better man than me._

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** _ _Hercules Hansen can't imagine feeling worse than he does in the wake of seeing what his brother has become. But his self-serving superiors have a plan for damage control that is set to destroy what's left of Herc's reasons for living in_ _**Chapter Fifteen: Rock Bottom!** _
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Min and Jing Li: Pilots of Horizon Brave. Brother and sister in their late 30s, Chinese Air Force officers and China's first Jaeger pilots, they helped shape the program that would become the Jaeger Academy and recruited many talented people into the program, including a certain set of triplets.
> 
> Marshal Blake Ketteridge: Commanding Officer of Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force.
> 
> Kyrra Taior: Lucky Seven's Chief Engineer, Herc's age. Youngest and sole surviving daughter of Marian Taior, an elderly aboriginal woman who occasionally looks after Chuck.
> 
> Christian Warner: Gipsy Danger drivesuit technician, 30ish, African-American from Atlanta, GA, attended academy with Beckets and his sister, Chloe, who is now in K-Watch.
> 
> Lea Franklin - age 20, lived in San Jose, California. Sole survivor of K-Day out of her family because she was traveling abroad with a school group. Extremely gifted, but has intense social anxiety due to PTSD. Attended the Jaeger Academy with the Beckets and Tendo Choi in 2016 and became a J-Tech Engineer.


	15. Rock Bottom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hercules Hansen can't imagine feeling worse than he does in the wake of seeing Scott's crimes in the drift. But his self-serving superiors have a plan for damage control that may destroy what's left of Herc's reasons for living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** Many thanks to everyone for the wonderful reviews! Please keep 'em coming!_

**Chapter Fifteen: Rock Bottom**

_Sydney Shatterdome…  
December 18, 2019…_

The 2019 holiday season was really fucking weird.

The Hassans and Vulcan Specter got back to Sydney first. They beat the first public reports of why Lucky Seven had been destroyed, but rumor was already spreading among the Corps. Once they were back, Devi threw all notions of non-interference to the wind.

She more or less yanked Chuck Hansen out of Marian Taior's quarters. "What have they told you?" she asked him.

Dazed, the kid blurted, "Nothing! I – I mean… people are saying… stuff about Scott. All Marian'll tell me is he's never coming back. I know he did something."

She sighed. She probably should have left this conversation for Marian to handle, or maybe Kyrra, but a few words from Kyrra and the rest of Lucky Seven's support crew were fair warning that Herc was a bloody wreck. Devi might have held Scott in contempt from minute one, but watching Lucky's handshake fall apart and remembering how bad it had been for Raleigh and Yancy just from time decay… _He's going to need help._

She looked at her colleague's son and said carefully, "I can't… tell you exactly what he did. The truth is, I don't know." _Not that it takes a K-Scientist to work it out._ "But your dad…" _Damn it, how do I put this that you'll understand? What'll make sense, what'll get through?_ "He _needs_ you, kid," she finally whispered, gripping Chuck's arm. "More than ever." _And you both mean too much for me not to try and help, no matter how bad an idea it might be to interfere._ "I just had to tell you that before he got here."

And Chuck didn't pull away. He didn't soften as she hoped, but he didn't scoff either.

When Team Lucky returned quietly to the Dome late that night, minus one Jaeger and one Ranger, Marian didn't seem to have to wrangle Chuck to be there to meet them. And Devi thought that even the most angsty, self-absorbed teenager couldn't miss the way Herc's eyes locked onto his son, as if the kid was a life raft and Herc was drowning in the ocean.

They didn't say a word to each other, but as they headed for quarters with Max at their heels, they were side-by-side.

Raised by casual Muslims, growing up around Christians, Hindus, Sikhs, and a mix of other faiths, Devi really wasn't sure whether she believed in Allah, God, Vishnu, or the Flying Spaghetti Monster or any variation thereupon. But she mentally said a prayer to them all: _Please, just get them through this._

Scott fucking Hansen had destroyed enough lives already.

They didn't see Herc at all for several days, then he turned up in the Kwoon for drills. He didn't talk to Devi and Suze, though he said a few muttered words to his crew. Suze was wondering – with justification – if he was finally peeved that Devi had taken it into her head to give his kid advice, especially on a subject like this.

But what he finally growled at them alone in the gym brought them both up sharp. "I know." He sounded half-bitter, half-guilty. "You told me so."

They stared for a few seconds, then Suze found her voice first. "Oh, hell. Do you really think we're that petty, man?!"

Herc burst out laughing, but it was a rather painful sound. Suze awkwardly looked away, while Devi had to restrain herself from going closer. "I'm sorry," he muttered.

"Don't be," she told him. "Don't. It wasn't your fault." But he winced, and she felt her sister tug at her sleeve and at her brain. _"He's going to have half the bloody Corps and three-quarters of the bloody planet putting their two cents in,_ " Susanti insisted. _"He does not need it from us._ " She was right, of course. Indra agreed too. Neither recriminations nor reassurances would be useful at a moment like this. "If there's anything we can do, just give the word." To that, Suze nodded, and Herc looked relieved.

"Maybe get Chuck out for a bit," he murmured, rubbing his forehead. "Bleak enough holiday as it is, and God knows his old man's not very merry. Or – well, damn, I forgot you don't celebrate - "

Suze laughed as they both relaxed. "We're lapsed, it's all right. Merry bloody Christmas."

But Chuck turned them down when they invited him to a hastily-organized party in one of the empty bays. "I'm, uh, working on something," he explained. "Thanks, though. Merry Christmas."

It should have clued them in that he was suspiciously polite about it.

* * *

_Jaeger Academy, Kodiak Island, Alaska…  
December 19, 2019…_

Stacker Pentecost would wonder for the rest of his life whether he'd done well by Herc Hansen in the aftermath of Manila. Tamsin insisted that he had, and that Herc was glad of him. But Caitlin Lightcap had disagreed with him when they'd talked during the fallout from Lucky Seven's destruction.

The Australian brass still wanted Hercules Hansen to be one of the pilots of the Mark-5.

"What in God's name are they trying to pull?!" Lightcap exploded when she saw Herc's name still on the list of candidates. "Who's he going to pilot with, a clone?"

"Stacks, tell me they're not seriously thinking of trying to cover up what Scott did," Sergio D'onofrio said, his eyes flashing. "Let alone try to make Herc get back in a conn-pod with the bastard."

"No, I'm glad to say _that_ is not considered an option," Stacker told them. He didn't tell them that it had taken several hours of arguing before Ketteridge and his ilk had agreed to take that "option" off the table for good. Very seldom did Stacker raise his voice, but he had during that conversation, and the Australians could count themselves lucky that there was an ocean between them and Caitlin. She would have gone for their throats.

As if Scott Hansen's actions could be brushed aside and hushed up as an "indiscretion," answerable by anything less than prison. As if a man who'd already betrayed the trust of his drift partner, the PPDC, and all the world could be trusted with anything ever again after taking the lives of two young girls for the sake of his own sick gratification.

However, it left a sour taste in Stacker's mouth that he had let himself be persuaded to leave Herc among the list of Australian candidates. "The thinking is that he could come to Alaska and test with new candidates," he explained to Caitlin and Sergio, and Tamsin via video conference. "Getting out of Sydney for awhile might do him good." Or so Secretary General Krieger had put it.

"As if Krieger gives a damn about Herc's recovery," Tamsin muttered, looking away from the webcam in disgust. "If I find out someone mentioned Duc Jessop as a candidate, I _will_ be going to Sydney to kick their arse." Duc was continuing his tenure as Academy instructor and "motivational speaking" at the brass's behest, but his cancer was terminal, and all the senior Rangers knew it. He was unlikely to see the end of 2020.

"No, thank God," Caitlin sighed. "With Duc's condition, they know it's out of the question. You and Stacker haven't been on the list either, but if we didn't have the medical opinions, they'd probably be suggesting it. Half of this is about PR. The UN wants to be able to say they have experienced pilots in the most expensive Jaeger ever, and Blake Ketteridge is bound and determined that he'll have himself some red-blooded Aussie men in the conn-pod."

As much as Stacker didn't want to admit it, Caitlin had the measure of the situation, including the motives behind the push to get Herc into the Mark-5. "Could be worse, I guess," said Sergio. "They could be sniffing around Chuck."

"Oh, _Jesus!_ "

"Don't worry," Stacker hastened to reassure them. "Herc shot that one down decisively even before Manila. Chuck won't even be seventeen until late next year, and that's the earliest Herc's prepared to even consider signing off on him entering Academy. I rather doubt he'll do it even then, at least not until the lad's set to be eighteen at graduation, and I'm quite behind him on that point."

It bothered him a great deal that so many others on the Academy Board had taken so long to fall into line on that discussion. But the law was on Herc's side along with most public opinion on decency even in wartime; a minor couldn't enlist without a parent or guardian's signature on the application no matter how desperate the need seemed to be. If the Board didn't follow that policy strictly… _God help me and every parent like me when our children get close to that so-called gray area._

Caitlin was taking an even harder stance on Herc's behalf, shaking her head. "We shouldn't be asking this of him, not now. Haven't we taken enough from him already? He still has an underage son; let the man go and be a father and give the Mark-5 to someone else! We have plenty of Ranger Ready pilots and candidates; if it's that important to have someone experienced, rotate in another Mark-1 or Mark-2 team! Let Herc alone!"

"I'm going to take Herc's wishes very seriously," Stacker told her. "We haven't discussed this in much detail; I wanted to give him a chance to recover. He can spend some time with his son, and after New Year's, we'll talk about the Mark-5."

But on Boxing Day, Caitlin came storming into Stacker's office and slapped a printout application to the Academy onto his desk. "What the hell is this?!"

It was Chuck Hansen's, with no guardian signature, yet the screeners hadn't automatically rejected it.

Stacker wondered if this was what a heart attack felt like.

* * *

_Sydney Shatterdome…  
December 26, 2019…_

All hell broke loose on Boxing Day.

Herc smelled a rat the minute Ketteridge invited him into a meeting with a slew of the other higher-ups, asking how his holiday had gone and being all solicitous. If the Hassans and Vulcan and Lucky's senior crew hadn't been invited too, Herc probably couldn't have kept from snapping. He could only tolerate a few minutes of small talk before he brusquely got to the point he knew they were tiptoeing about: "So what's the decision? Is he getting court-martialed or not?"

"Er…" Ketteridge was shit at dissembling. "The investigation is still under way. We, ah, thought we could discuss something a little more pleasant."

"Really?" Herc didn't bother to keep the scorn from his voice. What exactly did they suppose he'd find pleasant after Manila?

"It's about Striker Eureka," said the Engineering bigwig from Brisbane. Herc frowned, shooting Kyrra a puzzled glance. "The Mark-5."

"Mm, she's got a name now," said Greg, cautiously neutral.

"He. This one's a he." The brass seemed to hope that would garner a reaction, but Herc didn't care.

Disappointed, Ketteridge still didn't take the hint, and barged on. "The Corps can't afford to lose a pilot with your skills, Ranger. Humanity can't afford it! We know we can't ask you to pilot with Sc – with your brother again."

"That better not have ever been under consideration," Herc growled. "That bastard needs to be put away." Where the hell did they get off trying to sweet-talk Herc Hansen back into a conn-pod for the good of humanity when they were still risking Scott Hansen getting within arm's reach of another teenaged girl?! "Don't bloody tell me you haven't got enough evidence. There'll be DNA."

The Hassans and their senior staff had been silent observers to the discussion, looking like they were trying to will themselves invisible up until then. Now Devi and Susanti both stiffened, and the whole crew was glaring at Ketteridge. Yeah, they might be too polite to say "I told you so" to Herc, but that didn't mean the warning signs hadn't been there. Herc had deceived himself and couldn't mend what was already broken, but he wasn't going to let Ketteridge and his fancy suit friends try to sweep Scott's actions under the rug and cut him loose. _I have enough blood on my hands. No more. You want me to play, you better meet my terms._

Someone was buzzing Ketteridge and his mates' phones every ten seconds. "We can probably arrange to… quietly make sure Scott Hansen doesn't pose a threat to society," said the RAAF liaison in a rush, looking from Ketteridge to the military court rep. The man nodded nervously.

To Herc's disgust, but not surprise, they couched it as a bargain. "And in return, you agree to have a go at the Mark-5," Ketteridge finished.

"With who? You got someone in mind, or what?"

Ketteridge suddenly looked smug… and Herc's stomach dropped. "As a matter of fact, we do." He tapped his earpiece. "Come on in."

The door opened, and everyone at the table who wasn't one of the brass sucked in their breath. Herc's son marched in wearing a crew jacket, chest out and chin up, all puffed-up bulldog swagger, eyes sparkling and proud. It was the most horrific sight Herc had ever seen.

After that last drift in Manila, he wouldn't have thought it was possible to feel worse.

Fucking Ketteridge was completely oblivious. "Family are still the best options for drift compatibility," he explained. "I think the younger Mister Hansen's ready to start training." He slid a tablet across the table… and finally took a full look at Herc's face. His face fell as Chuck too started to waver.

"Dad, I… really, I'm ready."

Herc's head was throbbing, his blood roaring in his ears. He glanced down and saw it was the Academy application, already filled out.

_I told him no. He damn well knows it, and he still did this behind my back, and you encouraged him, you fucking…_ Herc's fists clenched, and he hissed at Ketteridge, "You piece of shit. You put him up to this."

The military court rep and a couple of the other brass could see the danger signs and rose to their feet as Herc did. "Ranger, now, take it easy - "

"I'm NOT fucking allowing it!" The tablet smashed against the wall; people shouted, Chuck stumbled back in shock, and Herc was pointing at Ketteridge. "I'm his father, he's underage, and you are NOT putting him into a goddamn Jaeger!"

"Dad - "

"Get back to quarters, and don't ever pull a stunt like this again!" he bellowed.

"Hansen, you're not being rational – son, stay here - "

"NO, HERC!" Only Kyrra, Greg, and his crew's restraining arms kept him from coming around that table at Ketteridge, and he actually struggled with them for a few seconds, seeing red. How _dare_ that fucking Marshal tell his kid to disobey him?! How bloody dare he stand there acting all protective of Chuck!

"What the hell is all this? Marshal Ketteridge!" Someone had patched Stacker Pentecost in on the video feed from the Academy. "Ranger Hansen!"

"Did you know about this, Pentecost?!" Herc shouted, rounding on the vidscreen.

Sydney's chief medic was about to break out the tranks for half the room. "Everyone calm down!"

Herc pointed at Chuck and roared, "OUT!" To Ketteridge, he shouted, "Don't you EVER fucking go near my kid again!"

"HERC! That's ENOUGH!" Devi and Susanti, with the aid of Indra, Kyrra, and Greg, bodily dragged him back to the opposite side of the table. "Okay – bloody, shut up, everyone, just shut up! Chuck…" Devi raised an urgent hand, seeing the kid halfway between panic and a fit of temper. "Just go. Let us talk."

Chuck's eyes darted from her to Herc then to Pentecost, then to Ketteridge. Ketteridge shook his head at the boy, and Herc was ready to spit. _I will break your jaw, you fucking…_ "Did you know about this?" he hissed at Pentecost.

"Five minutes ago was the first I've heard of it, and I agree, Mister Hansen needs to leave this meeting," Stacker said, addressing the brass.

But Ketteridge exchanged a look with Chuck and the other seniors, and to Herc's mounting fury, shook his head. "Mister Hansen is now an Academy recruit, Marshal. He should hear this conversation and why his father is trying to stonewall his application."

Greg and Kyrra's grips tightened on Herc, but they were both glaring at Ketteridge too. "As if you give a damn about that boy," Kyrra breathed. She too looked to Pentecost. "It's the bloody law. That application can't go forward without a parent's permission for a sixteen-year-old."

"You don't think I'm good enough." Chuck's declaration, cold and hard, simmering with rage and hurt, silenced them all. "Nothing I do's good enough." It was all directed at Herc.

Devi began, "Chuck, it's not _about_ \- " She grunted as Susanti elbowed her hard enough to knock her off balance.

Ketteridge was looking down his nose at Herc, not unlike the way he looked at the Hassans when they'd complained about Scott's harassment. So bloody high and mighty, thinking he could do anything for "the greater good" and it was all right. "The Academy Board has agreed that it might be necessary to grant Charles Hansen a waiver if needed. Or if you're going to be so completely unreasonable, we'll have to talk about emancipating him."

Chuck folded his arms and nodded. Herc bared his teeth. "Now you're on his side, are you? You know what he wanted me to do four years ago? Ship you off to a bloody boarding school, get you out of the way so he could get me in a Jaeger. You think he gives a shit about you, boy? You're a bloody idiot, and sure as hell not mature enough - "

" – This conversation is _insane!_ " Kyrra exploded. "You can't _force_ anybody to become a co-pilot or accept one! If this is about experienced pilots, then a sixteen-year-old won't do!"

"TAKE THEM!" Herc roared, pointing at the Hassans. "Get OVER your bloody sexism, they've got more fights than I do, give THEM the fucking Mark-5, I am NOT GETTING IN A JAEGER WITH MY OWN KID!"

Chuck was trembling, eyes blazing. "Screw you, old man, I'll get in one without you!"

"Oh, _God,_ " one of the crew groaned. "I can't believe you people thought this was a good idea."

Pentecost was on his feet on the other side of the Pacific. "I'm not going to allow it, Blake."

"The Board of Governors has already agreed," Ketteridge shot back. "They'll accept his application if he's emancipated, and if necessary, I will have him emancipated before the screening deadline."

_This is not bloody happening._ The crew were all starting to shout again, the brass were shouting back, Chuck was just scowling, and Herc was hissing through his teeth. "You _son of a bitch_. You killed my wife, now you'll kill my son. No price too high, hey?"

"QUIET!" Pentecost roared. That was a first, and it actually did startle Herc. He fell silent as everyone stared from each other to the vidscreen. Pentecost considered them all, then slowly turned his gaze to Chuck. "Mr. Hansen, your readiness to pilot a Jaeger isn't up to your father even if he did sign that permission waiver right now. It's determined by the Jaeger Academy. And whatever _public relations_ considerations weigh in favor of putting a known and experienced Ranger into the Mark-5, they are dramatically outweighed by the repercussions of putting an unqualified pilot into combat!"

"We don't _know_ he's not qualified - "

"Exactly!" Pentecost leaned forward. "The Board of Governors in its _wisdom_ may think parental permission is a flexible standard, but the standards for fitness to pass each cut are not, and I _will_ throw up every roadblock possible to fast-tracking _any_ applicant."

"We're not talking about fast-tracking," protested one of Ketteridge' aides. "Of course, he'll go through the regular Academy curriculum, and have to pass all the exams!"

"Watch me," Chuck muttered, like a proper schoolboy brat. And this was the high school kid Ketteridge thought should be at the helm of the most powerful weapons in existence.

"I'll go public," Herc growled. Heads snapped towards him so fast it was a surprise nobody got whiplash. "I'll hold a fucking press conference. I'll tell them what I saw in Manila, what my bastard brother did, and what you _haven't_ done to make sure he doesn't do it again. I'll tell them _this,_ that you're taking my kid from me because I won't sign off on putting him in control of a lethal weapon when he can't even control himself." Chuck's lip curled, but Herc sneered back. "Danny fucking Oliver calls you a name and you pop him one like you're still in the schoolyard, and you think you've got what it takes to pilot a lethal weapon?"

"I'll be better at it than you've ever been," Chuck hissed, every vein on his face and neck visible. It was like looking in a mirror.

Sounding desperate, Devi Hassan insisted, "This is completely out of control! Marshal, it's a bad idea. Drift compatibility is not about blood, it's about trust! If you'd talked to some of the experienced pilots or Dr. Lightcap, you'd understand that!"

Ketteridge took no more note of her opinion than he ever had, but Pentecost said, "She's right. You have thoroughly poisoned the well by encouraging that young man to go behind his father's back."

"Then I'll pilot with someone else," Chuck retorted. He looked at Ketteridge, appeal in his eyes. "Get me cleared. I'll pass their tests, I'll make the cuts, every one of 'em! If my old man won't even give me a shot, I'll match up with someone at the Academy. Not all the Rangers are related!"

Ketteridge looked at him, then he and his cronies looked at Herc. _Stalemate. Fucking Christ._ "You really gonna trust him," Herc muttered to the stupid kid. "You were a damn inconvenience to him until now. And how d'you want to explain them?" He jerked his head at the Hassans, brushing aside the twinge of guilt for dragging them into the middle of it. This was his kid's life at stake, the last shreds of his own reason for… anything. He couldn't let this happen. "Your stinking uncle used to fantasize about killing them." Chuck stiffened, and soft intakes of breath rippled through the room. Herc jerked his head at Ketteridge. "Listen to him, he talks about experience, but _they're_ the ones with the most engagements. Why not them, huh? They and their crew've let you hang around their bay, answered your questions, tag along with them all these years, and you're gonna trust _him?_ "

Silence was thick and ugly in the beats that followed, but it was Pentecost who broke it. Raising his hands for calm, he said quietly, "Rangers Hassan? I'd like you and your crew to step out. I don't think we need any further audience to the… central matter."

The girls looked at each other, then at Herc, and Susanti was the one who nodded. "Yes, sir. Come on," she muttered in Devi's ear. Devi's eyes were full as she looked at Herc, but she let her sister pull her away, and the crew followed the Rangers' lead. Herc didn't blame any of them for wanting to get out of the crossfire. He really shouldn't have used them that way. He'd apologize later. _I didn't have a choice, Dev. I'm up against a wall here. This is my son._ He thought – or rather hoped – she would understand.

Once they'd gone, Pentecost went on, "This entire conversation is unproductive. Threats and manipulation should have no part in assigning pilots to Jaegers, and even discounting the propriety, that's a path to disaster. Manila ought to be proof enough for all of us what happens when pilots can't trust each other."

Chuck only bristled further. "You're really comparing me to that - "

"No, he's not comparing you to anybody, and if you want to be able to handle drifting, you need to get a grip on your attitude, Chuck!" Kyrra snapped.

_Damn it._ "Go," Herc muttered, putting a hand on her shoulder. She stared, and he jerked his head at Greg and the rest of Team Lucky. "You all get out too. This isn't about you either."

"We're your crew, Ranger," she countered, glaring at Ketteridge.

"I don't have a crew anymore. I'm not a fucking Ranger." He kept his voice low and level, eyes also on Ketteridge and the rest of his cronies. "Go."

They hesitated, but Pentecost sighed heavily. "Please, ladies and gentlemen. Let's get all unnecessary participants out of this meeting." Rather insulting to a Jaeger crew, Herc thought, but it did the trick, and they trickled out. "Now let's examine some _non-_ nuclear options, gentlemen."

Herc scowled at the table, arms folded, unaware that his son was in the exact same pose without meaning to be. "He's not _that_ young, Hansen. Public won't be as outraged as you think," insisted one of the Australian generals.

"Stack that on top of cutting my brother loose, and we'll see."

"Nobody's suggesting we're cutting your brother loose!" the military court rep snapped. "The investigation's ongoing!"

"You've locked up privates for fucking Wikileaks in less time than this!" Herc hissed. "What are you waiting for, then?"

"HERC! Be quiet and calm down," Stacker snapped. Herc glared, but bit his tongue. "What about you coming up to Kodiak?" Herc blinked, and he explained, "To test the candidates we have. With more candidates than Jaegers at the moment, we've started solo sim training in the second term along with drift testing. Candidates who don't succeed are permitted to try again with other unmatched solos from subsequent classes. We have several with excellent scores," he pointed out to Ketteridge.

Herc looked at Chuck. The kid stared at him, half indignant, half pleading by the look on his face.

Ketteridge was still puffed up like a peacock. The bastard had staked too much on this notion of his, putting one of his precious Hansens in the Mark-5. No one would take Blake Ketteridge seriously if his grand scheme fell apart, and he knew it. _And proving you have the biggest cock and balls of all the Shatterdome C.O.s comes with the small price of one child soldier._

"I'll do it," Herc muttered, looking at Pentecost. Chuck moved in the corner of his eye, but he didn't turn his head. "I'll test the candidates. I'll train for the bloody Mark-5. Get me a few Aussies if it's that damned important that they be local; we're a big country."

"No one has a better chance of drift compatibility than a relative," Ketteridge argued.

"You don't KNOW that! Jesus, hundreds of siblings have failed at it, and plenty of Rangers aren't related!" Herc bellowed.

"Let me TRY!" Chuck shouted. "Why won't you even let me try?!"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE A KID!"

"HERC, CHUCK!" Stacker seemed to sense they were going in circles, and turned to the military court rep. "Where are you on the investigation of Scott Hansen?"

Herc dully wondered if Stacker'd done that knowing every time they mentioned Scott again, the ghost drift seemed to yank at the inside of his brain. It was certainly a distraction from wanting to thrash his idiot son. Stepping into a conn-pod again had no appeal for Herc, let alone without… no.

He couldn't think in those terms, not of Scott. _Not that. Never that. Not even to…._ Not even to stop this? What if that was the choice Ketteridge meant to force on him? _Oh god._

"There… so far there appears to be sufficient evidence to justify a number of years in military prison," the rep was saying.

"Life," Herc growled. "Do you not get it yet? He doesn't give a damn about anything or anyone; I was in his bloody head, I saw it. He's got no remorse. Everything that ever went wrong for him, he blamed on someone else, and he bloody well started taking it out on them. It was only a matter of time before he went after someone inside this Dome. You let him out, no matter what, no matter when, he _will_ do it again. Don't tell me you're worried about his civil rights." Military court tossed that sort of thing to the wind whenever it bloody convenienced them. And Herc had given them all the evidence they needed to match up DNA and witnesses. Any excuses were just that.

But the court rep looked at Ketteridge. Then they both looked at Stacker.

And Herc heard it coming.

"We can probably justify a life sentence. Ensure that Scott Hansen doesn't get near vulnerable people ever again. It'll need to be kept quiet. Some members of the public still think civil rights of criminals are important even in the kaiju war."

Stacker took a long, deep breath. But he said nothing. Ketteridge stared Herc down, then held out his hand to one of his aides. No one had to say what the stack of papers was that the aide put in his hand, and Ketteridge slid a sheet across the table. Jaw clenched, Herc stared at it.

_So this is what it comes down to. Sign my child's life away or sign away the life of some innocent girl. Bargain away my br – no. That bastard's no part of me._

Stacker again broke the long, silent staring contest. "Mr. Hansen, what your father is being asked to sign is permission for you to _apply_ to the Jaeger Academy. Nothing more. You will still be subject to the screening standards, and most of those are objective. If you fail any of them, or any of the criteria for advancement past a cut, you will not be given special privileges."

Jaw clenched, arms folded, Chuck gave a short, curt nod. His eyes glittered as he watched Herc, waiting.

"Ranger, it's only an application - " one of the brass began.

"Fuck you!" Herc snarled. But he slammed his fist down on the sheet, grabbed the pen, and signed. Teeth bared, glaring at the kid, he said, "Find someone to take the dog. You think you're all grown up now, ready to be a pilot? No time for a pet. He goes." He shoved himself off the table and would probably have bitten off any hand that reached for him as he stalked for the door. To Stacker, he added, "I'm still coming to the Academy. I'll find my own fucking co-pilot!"

He slammed out of the conference room and didn't look back.

* * *

Susanti was really worried that she was going to have to tie Devi up or hit her over the head as the crews of Lucky, Vulcan, and the Dome at large wandered the halls and stewed. She and Indra got the hell out of quarters to try and avoid the fallout, but Dev was hanging out at home, and they all knew why.

"This is enough of a disaster," Suze muttered to their cousin, knowing Devi would pick up the gist of it from the drift. "She's only courting more if she tries to get involved."

More indulgent of Devi's mother hen instincts, Indra defended her. "She cares, Suze. Half the Dome is about to lose it – hell, more than half."

"And because I'm not going to muck about with Herc Hansen's parenting, that means I don't care?!" Why did they always imply that?

_That's_ not _what we imply by it,_ she heard/sensed from her sister, then a knock on the door sent Devi through the ceiling, and made Suze trip over her own feet as she and Indra did their drills.

The adrenaline spike only added to the power of the ghost drift when Devi opened the door, and Suze knew who it was, almost able to see it through her sister's eyes: Herc.

_Oh, shit._

* * *

Herc wondered what the hell he was doing, pounding on the Hassans' door in the middle of the night, but he was too damn far gone to care anymore. What was there left to care about?

He'd seen Chuck heading back to quarters a little while after the meeting broke up, and hadn't gone home himself. His kid was off to Academy. No point in being home to look after him.

He wandered aimlessly in the fog, staying on the water side of the Dome grounds in case the press were sniffing around, and did let himself think about just walking down Scramble Alley and not stopping.

There was no one to hear that in the drift anymore. Unless Ketteridge had his way, of course.

Or maybe Herc should just consider that Scott's issue was more familial than anyone expected and put a bullet in Blake Fucking Ketteridge's brain.

Then he figured again this was why his brother had become a monster.

He had to stop bloody _thinking._ So he kicked aside the part of himself that said it was unfair to burden fellow Rangers – Australia's only Rangers now – and didn't stop his feet from walking him to her door.

Devi looked tired, stressed, and sad. The whole population of the Dome was a wreck since Manila, and today had only added to it. For a minute, he just stared at her, then muttered, "I signed."

She knew. Someone must have been talking. "You been drinking, Hercules?"

A dull, choked snort of laughter escaped him. God only knew what he looked like; it wasn't an unreasonable assumption. "No."

Her answer surprised him. "Why the hell not? Get in here."

He was surprised when she broke out a good bottle of Tasmanian whiskey, award-winning label, the kind he himself might indulge in when looking for something harder than beer but better than swill. "Thought Muslims didn't drink." Piss-poor manners, but oh well.

She snorted and poured herself a shot. "We're not exactly devout, remember?" They clinked glasses without having to remark on all the ironic and non-celebration-worthy things they could be toasting, and fell silent again. "Do you want to talk?"

"What's to talk about?" He wasn't really sure why he'd come here. "I sold them my kid so they'd put my bastard brother away. They won't fast-track him, for what little it's worth." He tried not to sound accusing, tried not to hate them for all the time Chuck had spent in Vulcan's bay and LOCCENT. "I thought there was no harm in letting him hang around the mechs, learn the piloting stuff. Turns out I was just fattening him up for the slaughter."

" _That's_ not true!" She was next to him, her hand on his arm. The other hand was on his shoulder. "Herc, this is not your fault."

The few swallows of whisky he'd had shouldn't have had nearly as much an effect as it seemed to be having. _"That 'moment' wasn't just her,_ " Scott had said.

Was it just his fucked-up, jealous imagination then? Or was it Herc's out-of-control mind that thought her eyes softened, and she was leaning closer?

It wasn't. She was. And alcohol didn't seem like half the balm that this could be… it'd been a long time since he'd looked at a woman this way, or thought about…

But when his hand touched her face, she went rigid again. He didn't let go, but didn't try to stop her, and for a minute, he thought she was actually going to stay. Then she flinched and pulled away, and he knew it wasn't happening. Heat and frustration and misery sizzled through him, and he stood up, not bothering to down the rest of the glass. "Sorry."

"Don't be," she muttered thickly, back to him.

It was wrong to be pissed at her, but his temper was frayed, his sanity at its limits, and his self-control practically gone. "Yeah, I know. Not my fault your boy-toy Yancy's on the other side of the lake!"

The acid in his voice was unmistakable, and she spun around. He'd shocked her, he'd _hurt_ her, and that satisfied him – then shame and self-disgust sizzled through him.

_Maybe I'm more like Scott than I thought. Hating a woman for having the gall to turn me down. Never mind she's got a guy, never mind I'm a grizzled old man, it's all on her. Maybe he did pick it up from me._

He waited for her to tell him to get the hell out of her quarters, and wondered if he'd disgrace himself any more than he already had by just breaking down in tears. She was sorry for him, but that didn't entitle him to her ass, and now her pity was gone too -

Anger warred with embarrassment on Devi's face, but finally, she surprised him by observing wryly, " _That's_ what you think? Hell. You're wrong, Hansen. I'm not in a relationship with Becket or anybody else." Herc just stared, and she folded her arms, looking awkwardly away.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't… I'm…" _Out of control, out of my mind, lost my brother, losing my son, and about to lose a friend and I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do anymore._ "I know you don't – shit." He had to look away from her and take another swallow from his glass to clear his throat, hang onto what shreds of dignity he still had. _I'm not like him. How do I prove that to you? I don't think you're just a piece of ass._ "You don't owe me anything, I know that. I'm not some creep after younger women." Well, that was just clumsy.

But she did soften, relaxing from the tension that would've made Scott smug but just nauseated Herc. "You're nothing like him, Hercules. You don't have to prove it." Maybe she did understand. And what she said next stunned him. "And if I weren't worried about… your son, I'd… want…" She raised her eyes to his again, and the breath left him.

Was she serious? Was it really not his imagination, that she'd looked at him that way? But she fumbled for her own glass and muttered at it rather than look at him anymore. "I know you're getting advice from everyone in the bloody Corps, but I'll say it: Chuck still needs you. He still loves you, and I know what he means to you. Let this application thing run its course, but don't let it rip you apart."

"Dev, Chuck and me were ripped apart years ago," he said bitterly. "He's never forgiven me for not saving his mum."

He'd never said that out loud to anyone before, not even Scott.

Devi Hassan, Ranger and ten years his junior, looked at him again and spoke with conviction. "The kaiju fucked up plenty of families. They're the ones to blame, and he knows that."

_What do you know about it?_ He almost snapped at her, but then thought bitterly, _Maybe she does know. He's spent more time in Vulcan's bay than Lucky's. Maybe he's spent more time with her than he has with me._

"I don't know what to do now," he mumbled.

Devi hesitated, then cautiously closed the distance between them to give him a very chaste, very awkward hug. "Don't give up. Not on him, not on yourself. Things can get better." Her smile was quirky as she stepped back again. "I know, everyone's different, but… you _can_ forgive some things. And you'd be surprised what other people can forgive."

Was that to imply that Devi Hassan was not a saint? To his amazement, a grin formed on his own lips. "You'll have to tell me a story where you're not the one with all the answers someday, Ranger Hassan."

"I just might." She grinned back. "Do what you need to do in Anchorage, and… if you need to talk, call me."

The Dome walls still pressed in around him in his quarters. His brother's absence still hammered in the darkness, and the bond of the drift still pulled like a hateful, vengeful devil at his soul. Rage at Ketteridge for manipulating Herc's son, turning him into a propaganda pawn, made him want to grab the man in a corridor and break every bone in his body. Knowing Chuck would be headed for Kodiak in a few days lashed at his awareness and made him want to grab the kid and shake him.

But the next day, Chuck muttered that the Hassans had agreed to "look after Max until I get back."

A part of Herc, still furious at the boy, wanted to correct him that wherever Max went, it was permanent. That same part wanted to check with Devi and Suze and Indra, make sure they knew Chuck was under orders to re-home the dog, not find him a minder. But he clamped down on it.

"All right." And his boy looked at him for a few seconds with something like hope in his eyes. "Pack your duffel, then. We'll… see where it goes."

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** _ _Herc searches fruitlessly for an adult co-pilot as his sixteen-year-old attends the Jaeger Academy. But as Chuck passes the first cut, the war is about to take another ugly turn, and Herc witnesses a new tragedy for the Jaeger Program in **Chapter Sixteen: Knifehead.  
> **_
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Marshal Blake Ketteridge: Commanding Officer of Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force.
> 
> Marian Taior: An elderly Aboriginal woman who lost four of her five children and all of her grandchildren in Sydney. She served as Chuck's guardian while Herc and Scott are training in Anchorage, and now assists with Sydney Shatterdome's childcare.
> 
> Kyrra Taior: Lucky Seven's Chief Engineer, Herc's age. Youngest and sole surviving daughter of Marian Taior.
> 
> Greg Oliver: Herc's comrade and fellow chopper pilot from before K-Day, now a support pilot for Lucky Seven. Like Herc, he joined the Jaeger Program in the wake of Scissure. He lost his parents and his oldest daughter, Karina, in the attack .
> 
> Daniel (Danny) Oliver: Greg's son, age 17, who survived Scissure along with his little sister, Emma. He and Chuck have a lot in common, but lack the maturity to empathize at this stage in their lives. Both boys dream of joining the Jaeger Program as pilots.


	16. Knifehead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herc searches fruitlessly for an adult co-pilot as his sixteen-year-old attends the Jaeger Academy. But as Chuck passes the first cut, the war is about to take another ugly turn, and Herc witnesses a new tragedy for the Jaeger Program: Knifehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** Thank you all so much for the wonderful feedback! Please keep it coming! There's some mixed canon sources on Herc's piloting history between Scott and Chuck, including one source that said Herc had piloted every generation of Jaeger, while others say that he only ever partnered with his brother or his son. Some fanon is that he is "universally drift compatible," but this fic doesn't follow that line. I hold to the headcanon that achieving drift compatibility is extremely difficult. More on that to follow in upcoming chapters.  
> _

**Chapter Sixteen: Knifehead**

_Jaeger Academy, Kodiak Island, Alaska…  
February 2020…_

Chuck passed the screening tests with flying colors. Herc was dismal, but not all that surprised.

By the end of February, as the Academy's first term wound to a close, Herc's distress and anxiety had faded to a dull resignation when he peeked at the performance reviews. His boy was going to make the first cut and move on to drift sync testing.

Herc had no contact with Chuck during the first term, sticking to the Academy policy for Rangers to stay away from new recruits. The instructors (and Stacker) probably would have looked the other way if he'd just looked in on his kid, said a quick hello, but he didn't.

He saw Chuck several times, passing in the halls or on the grounds with his class groups, but Chuck always looked away the fastest. Many of his fellow recruits stared at Herc for far longer.

It was just another irony of the whole fucked-up situation that Daniel Oliver had finally passed the screening tests for admission to Class 2020-A. Herc never had more than fleeting eye contact with Danny either, but he and Greg did have a few cautious, anxious Skype conversations. More often, he chatted with his former crew back in Sydney, along with Devi and Susanti. They reported that all the staff were lavishing Max with attention, but the bulldog was still lonely.

" _He keeps trying to pull off his leash when we pass your room_ ," Devi admitted at one point. " _He got loose once and we found him outside Lucky's bay, whining at the door._ "

_I know exactly how you feel, Max._

When Herc realized the Beckets were still assigned to the Anchorage Shatterdome, he deliberately avoided the place, and to his relief, no one ever sensed why. He did his testing with the unmatched candidates at the Academy during the first term whenever the pons lab was free, and used their simulator rather than go to the mainland Dome. He even flew across the lake to Hong Kong to test with some of their candidates who'd switched to support work after failing to make the second cut.

So far, his drift compatibility ratio was about nil for ninety attempts. It had felt difficult with Scott, but compared to now, Scott had been a cake-walk.

And with all that drift testing, the haunted bond only pulled at him harder.

In early February, Stacker Pentecost pulled him aside in the proving grounds Assembly Building. "The PPDC tribunal is over."

Herc took a deep breath and cursed the part of him that quailed. "And?"

"Scott Hansen has been sentenced to life in prison without possibility of release. Military prison. He will never have a chance to harm anyone again." Stacker watched him with dark, intense eyes. "You did the right thing, Herc. You have nothing to reproach yourself for."

_Not even that part of me wants to go find him and hug him still?_ He groped around for something else to occupy his mind. "We on red alert yet?" He'd lost track of it, something he'd never have imagined before Manila.

Stacker nodded. "It just began, and coverage is dangerously thin for most of the bases. Lima and Panama are all right, but three of the American and Canadian mechs are still in repair, and the UN is still balking at funding another Mark-5. I haven't even got the green light to recommission Horizon Brave and Diablo Intercept."

Lucky Seven wouldn't be repairable. Herc knew that already, and had to admit that he was a bit relieved. In some ways, the prospect of setting foot in a strange Jaeger with a strange partner was more appealing than going back into the one he'd once ridden with Scott. As if the memories weren't powerful and painful enough.

"My options are a bit thin too, I'm sure you know. I've worked my way through every candidate who passed the first cut and still eligible after evals. Until this class makes the cut… if Chuck passes, let him test with some of his classmates first. It might be safer for all concerned."

Stacker nodded, but added reluctantly, "Unless you and he both match with partners, the Board – and Marshal Ketteridge - will insist that you test with him, Herc."

"I know." _Fuckers._ "Got any odd jobs for me 'till then?" he asked with feigned cheer.

But Pentecost was generous enough to offer distraction. "Help me argue with Secretary General Krieger about the new alert policies. The new policy is a standing order no longer putting all bases on alert when movement in the Breach is detected. They want to go back to waiting until we know for certain where the kaiju is heading to even put the bases on alert – unless, of course, the commanding officers agree to having embedded media."

"It really is all about money to those suits. Unless there's publicity to be had."

Stacker was still a stickler for military respect, but the droll, raised-eyebrow _look_ he shot Herc, with that little twist of his mouth and tilt of his head, was all the indication Herc needed that even Marshal Stacker Pentecost thought the same. _They'd sell us all out if it would make them look good._

"For the time being, we've voted to reduce the base-wide alerts, but I don't intend to drop it. It's a matter of safety for the coastlines _and_ the personnel."

Herc shrugged. "We'll have to put our faith in K-watch and Tactics, then. They've got pretty good at forecasting. It might do the crews good to get a little more sleep before deployment."

* * *

_February 28, 2020…_

Herc wondered a month later if things would have ended differently if they'd kept to the old pre-deployment rules. If the whole base had been on alert from the minute Knifehead came out of the Breach, maybe… it wouldn't have ended the way it did.

He heard the Breach alarms going off in the Assembly Building, but as Pentecost had decreed, the entire population of the PPDC was no longer on full alert. The weather was shit and only getting worse when he hurried across the grounds to quarters.

"Nice day to stay indoors, eh, Ranger Hansen?" said Steve Tán, the Academy's chief medic. It was mid-morning, but pitch-dark thanks to a massive winter storm rolling through.

"My thoughts exactly, mate. Are your drill instructors gonna drag the recruits through the process?" Herc asked as they sprinted through the freezing rain into the semi-heated personnel housing. _Wonder what Chuck's making of his first ice storm._

"I think Marshal Gagnon wanted to, but the ferries and choppers are grounded in these winds. K-Watch is thinking the kaiju won't head this far north." Tán stumbled to a halt as his glasses fogged up, and Herc chuckled. "I hope they're right; we've only got one mech who's dep-ready."

"Yeah, Gipsy Danger." Barely two months since Manila, and the golden boys were back on active duty with hardly a scratch. Herc shrugged it off. "Well, no Jaeger for me to get into, so no point standing around the monitors all night."

Tán grinned. "You've got the sense, Herc. You know Raleigh, the younger Becket? He came down with Jaeger-head last year in Lima during an alert, and tried to get the medics to give him the stimulant blast even though Gipsy was still in refit." Herc hissed in dismay, having heard stories about that ailment, and the stimulant rebound. "Yeah, he went a bit overboard. I thought Ellie Faison was gonna have a hernia."

"So did he do it?" From what admittedly-little Herc knew about Raleigh Becket, he wasn't surprised that the kid was gung-ho.

"No, Dr. Faison wouldn't let him." They reached Tán's quarters, and he waved cheerfully. "Night."

The storm was so bad that the power was flickering on and off, and Herc made a private, spiteful point of not checking the alert updates. _Not on duty, not my problem._ Well, he could hope that the bogey wouldn't head for Sydney or Anchorage, given that they were both at one Jaeger available, but apart from that, none of it mattered. Krieger and Ketteridge could strong-arm him into pons testing, but until it yielded results, he'd no reason to pay attention. He found himself a book to read and stayed smugly off the grid for the rest of the day, and went to bed early.

Sometime late at night, he heard people hurrying up and down the corridor, but whatever shift change the kaiju had prompted, it didn't apply to him, so he ignored it.

In the wee hours, there were phones and pager alarms going off in the halls. Herc rolled over and kept on ignoring it.

* * *

_February 29, 2020…_

In the morning, the storm had cleared and the sun was out again, but personnel housing was still disturbed. Herc finally gave in to curiosity and poked his head out of his quarters. "What's going on?"

"Dunno, sir," said the pons tech who lived next door. "Romeo Blue and Gipsy Danger both went out last night, but there've no updates."

"Hm." Herc headed out to the grounds, wondering if the temperature was out of the negatives yet, but his blood finally started to quicken when he saw fleets of R&R choppers prepping and launching. The whole damn base was mustering. "Jesus." He ran for the milling techs, all watching the action with the same stricken look on their faces. "What the hell happened?"

Jasper Schoenfeld turned to him. "They're saying Gipsy Danger's down!"

_…_ _What?_ Herc's heart plummeted. "My God." He should be doing something. Surely there was something he could do. He was still a Ranger. "The kaiju?"

"They got it," said Priya Katwal, eyes tearing in the cold wind – or maybe something else. "It veered north past Romeo off the California coast; they didn't engage. All the strike troopers can tell us is the target's destroyed, but Gipsy's down on the shore west of Anchorage!"

By rights, Herc knew he should sit down and shut up and stay out of the way. But he wasn't the only one who hopped on the first available ferry to the mainland and started making his way for the Anchorage Shatterdome, especially not when he got a desperate text message from Devi Hassan: _Herc, hearing rumors that Gipsy is missing in action. If you know anything, please tell us!_

He hurriedly texted her back: _Dev, no concrete news here, but I'll try to find out._

"Any word on the Beckets?" he asked his fellow passengers.

"There's still a search and rescue in progress," reported someone. "But medical's saying the pilots are in the hospital."

At the ferry terminal around midday, Herc got the first real word on the situation from the regular media, not the Corps.

**_Breaking News!_ ** _"_ _This is PPDC Correspondent Trinity Wells. A massive search is under way for PPDC Ranger Yancy Becket, one of the pilots of Jaeger Gipsy Danger! Gipsy Danger fought and killed her fifth kaiju last night off the shores of Anchorage, Alaska, but civilian witnesses are reporting that the Jaeger sustained massive damage and one of the pilots is missing!"_

_"_ _Trinity, do we have any official word from the PPDC today on the condition of the other pilot, Raleigh Becket?"_

_"_ _No official reports have been released by the PPDC or the Anchorage Shatterdome, but witnesses who saw Gipsy Danger crash on the beach to the west of Kodiak Island say one of the pilots has been rescued. Fishing vessel_ Saltchuck _, out of the Port Alaska Docks in Anchorage, put out a call for all civilian boats available to comb the waters of the Gulf of Alaska for the missing pilot. Hundreds of boats and ships have answered, and now that last night's storm has blown through the region, vessels and planes are spreading out over the gulf to find the heroic pilot."_

_"_ _That is Trinity Wells, our PPDC Correspondent, on her way to Alaska to report live as this story unfolds. We are getting calls from numerous spotter planes and civilian boats that the people of Anchorage have sworn to find the missing Jaeger pilot. For those of you just joining us, another triumph for the Pan-Pacific Defense Corps' Jaeger Program is clouded by the news that one of the two pilots of Jaeger Gipsy Danger is missing after defeating the kaiju Knifehead in the waters off Anchorage, Alaska. The pilots, Yancy and Raleigh Becket, are actually Anchorage natives, so this news is hitting the local community very hard, and the people under their protection are answering the call for volunteers. We don't have any official confirmation from the PPDC yet, but sources within the Anchorage Shatterdome have told us that Raleigh Becket, the younger of the two pilots, has been rescued and is receiving medical treatment."_

Some of the Corps staff hovering around the ferry terminal TV with Herc let out their breath. "Well, if Raleigh survived, then Yancy must have," reasoned someone.

"Why're they searching the water? Didn't they say Gipsy's down on the shore? Raleigh couldn't have brought her back alone."

"Maybe that's where the engagement was," suggested Priya.

"Nah, I don't think so. No Blue cleanup calls have gone out, and if the bastard croaked on the beach, we'd have a slick to deal with."

It took Herc another couple of hours just to hitch various rides out to the Shatterdome and navigate the flood of press and anxious onlookers and gawkers through the gates with his Ranger ID.

Gipsy Danger's bay was empty. _Shit._ Wild-eyed, frantic strike troopers and ground crews were swarming around, and Herc knew not to try to grab anybody and ask questions.

Outside the chaos among the milling staff, one of the first senior staff he recognized was Caitlin Lightcap, white-faced and red-eyed. "Herc?"

"Hey, Cait." He braced himself for bad news and put a hand on her shoulder. "What's the word?"

Dazed, she told him, "Raleigh's in intensive care. Dr. Tán just flew in a team from Anchorage General. Herc, Yancy's _missing!_ They made it to the beach, but the crews only found Raleigh."

"So Yancy has to be alive," Priya insisted, squeezing Caitlin's arm and looking meaningfully at Herc. "The salvage crews are getting the black box out of the conn-pod; they're hoping that'll give them an idea where to look. But if Raleigh lived through the engagement, Yancy must have made it even if he fell from the pod."

"How bad's the conn-pod?"

"Bad. I've only seen a few shots, but the right side is ripped open. In that storm afterward, with his rig compromised, Yancy may have fallen."

"Christ." Herc made a mental note to swallow every unkind thought he'd ever had about Yancy Becket. He felt still worse when he saw the images that some of the news choppers were broadcasting of Gipsy Danger on the beach.

"Her left arm's completely gone. _Shit!_ It's been almost eight hours, they're fucking running out of time! Yance can't survive these weather conditions much longer!" hissed one of Gipsy's techs, storming around the utility bay.

"Are we sure they haven't taken him to the hospital? If he fell from the pod, they may have had to evac him straight to the trauma center downtown."

There was a massive crowd of anguished Gipsy crew in the corridors leading to the infirmary, so Herc didn't even bother trying to get there. But near LOCCENT, the staff made way for him, so he, Caitlin, and Sergio cautiously approached as night fell. Stacker Pentecost was still there along with the crisis crew and Gipsy's support chief. When Stacker looked up and met Herc's eyes, Herc's heart sank yet again.

Stacker looked like hell. Bruce and Trevin Gage looked even worse. The twins must have hitched a ride up from California after Knifehead passed them by.

"Herc," said Stacker quietly. "Sergio, Caitlin."

Caitlin took a deep breath. "Is there any word?"

Gipsy's support chief, that flirtatious bloke who'd been hitting on Horizon Brave's techs two months before, was leaning heavily on the LOCCENT console. Herc could see the streams of data and timestamps. They must have got the reports from the conn-pod black box. Also here was the little brunette engineer that Scott had harassed in Manila, her arm around the waist of another of Gipsy's LOCCENT staff.

"Yancy Becket was torn from the pod during the engagement," Stacker said quietly. "We lost all contact with his drivesuit, and… he's still missing."

Bruce Gage spoke in a growl, teeth clenched, eyes glittering. "It sounds bad from the voice recorder, but he _can't_ have died instantly. Raleigh wouldn't still be alive if that'd happened!"

"How do we know that?" Stacker murmured, his eyes distant. "It's possible to pilot a Jaeger solo, and Raleigh just went into cardiac arrest." Herc's stomach lurched. Stacker went on, "We've assumed that a Ranger couldn't handle the trauma of a co-pilot's death mid-drift, but it's only an assumption." He shot Herc a reluctant look, and Herc considered the evidence.

_Before Manila, I wouldn't have thought it was possible to break the damned handshake mid-fight, but I did, and I'm still here. God damn it._ "Will Raleigh make it?" he asked. "If Yancy… if he did survive the fight, how long does he have?"

"Dr. Tán thinks he can pull Raleigh through, but Yancy's odds are not good. Even if we do find him."

"There are hundreds of boats and planes looking for him," Tendo Choi insisted. "The drivesuit and armor might have protected him, and there's a lot of debris in the water. They might still find him, even…" He looked at the clock, then winced. It was full dark out now. "Sir, we can't give up yet."

"I'm waiting for Dr. Tán to have a chance to talk with the search and rescue medics," Stacker told them. "Their report will let me know when to… call it."

_God._ Herc's phone had been vibrating almost nonstop in his pocket for the past day. "Marshal, there needs to be an official report. I've got two of their classmates back in Sydney desperate for news, and there'll be more at every other Dome. It's not right to leave them all in the dark."

Stacker nodded. "Where's Mrs. Olivares?"

"With Raleigh," said Choi. He was maintaining impressive calm, but there was an edge in his voice that suggested a punch would be thrown if anyone was called away from the Ranger's bedside.

Keeping a death grip on his brother, Trevin Gage spoke up bitterly. "Our PR rep can take care of Gipsy's stuff. All he has to do for us is say we had a non-combat deployment. We might as well be useful for something."

"Trev, don't say that," Sergio began. "You couldn't have - "

"We should've had back-up out there for them!" Bruce exploded at Stacker. "For Christ's sake, all that team training and warnings about how big these bastards were getting, and you deployed them without even a spotter team?!"

"Hey, hey!" Sergio hurried forward and grabbed both twins by the shoulder before they could get any closer to Pentecost. "Pointing fingers is not going to accomplish anything, _especially_ not at this stage. We were stretched thin, the kaiju ran off the radar into a winter storm – hell, the Beckets shouldn't have even been at that spot. They split from the miracle mile to get between him and that fishing boat," he explained, seeing Herc's confusion. "So until we know more about what happened, we need to keep our heads - "

The door opened. Steve Tán was there, with a couple of R&R medics. Someone's breath caught. "Doctor?" asked Stacker.

"Raleigh?" Caitlin whispered.

"We've stabilized him."

But Tán didn't sound very triumphant about it. The staff stepped back to let the doctors in, and Herc could see Team Gipsy's people in a tight cluster behind the Gages, and more in the corridors, squeezing through the doors to hear what news there was. Many were trembling, hanging onto their emotions with everything they had.

Stacker looked at the three medics, and said quietly, "I need to know where we stand with the search. According to the data from the conn-pod, Gipsy One was torn from his rig at 6:26 this morning. It's been fourteen hours." The medic nodded, avoiding everyone's eyes as Stacker came down to it: "Is there _any_ chance that he could still be alive?"

Silence. Herc's pulse echoed in his ears. Someone's breath hitched quietly in the group of Gipsy's crew.

The medics looked at each other, and Dr. Tán visibly forced himself to look at Stacker before he answered. "No." The twins closed their eyes in unison. Tendo Choi turned and stared at the screens again. Tán went on, "The chances of his having lived through that fight were very slim. Even if he had, the water temperatures are well below freezing." He took a deep breath and addressed Team Gipsy. "I'm so sorry, everyone. Yancy's gone."

Caitlin hadn't made a sound, but tears were sliding down her face as she held on to her husband. Sergio was holding on to her as tight as the twins were to each other.

Stacker nodded, and looked at the screen with Gipsy Danger's status.

_Becket, Y: Active._

_Becket, R: Active._

_Gipsy Danger: Active._

When Stacker changed that status, the data would flash around the PPDC rosters in seconds.

Herc stepped forward in a rush. "Wait. Please… wait a few minutes before calling it. Let me contact Sydney." Stacker frowned, and he explained roughly, "Devi and Susanti Hassan deserve to hear this from a friend."

Someone sobbed, but Tendo Choi turned back to Stacker, "I can put a call in to Panama at the same time, sir. Steph Lanphier and Kennedy LaRue should hear it from us too."

Stacker hesitated for only a moment. "I'll change the status in one hour, so any informal calls can be made. The formal public announcement will be made then as well, so the Dome and Academy should be informed first."

"What about Raleigh?" asked the little engineer. "What can we… how does he…"

"Does he know?" breathed Trevin.

Tán shook his head. "I don't know what he was aware of before we brought him in. He hasn't regained consciousness. I think he's stable, but…"

_If he's not, put a bloody DNR order in,_ Herc thought before he could catch himself. Ten weeks since Manila, and he still throbbed from the pull of that bond, the one he'd broken himself and good riddance. Force of will was keeping him fighting it, more for vengeance and spite than anything else. Sometimes he still thought he'd never get through it with his sanity intact. Raleigh Becket… what would he have to keep him going? _What the hell's going to happen to that poor kid?_

But now he owed it to his Dome-mates to deliver this news to them himself. It would fall to Stacker and the medics to decide the best course of treatment for a wounded soldier. "I'll make that call," Herc muttered, and left LOCCENT in a hurry.

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** _ _Stacker Pentecost struggles to aid Gipsy Danger's crew in the aftermath of Knifehead and searches for ways to keep the promise he once made to Yancy. When he and Herc learn what the PPDC superiors have planned for Raleigh, the situation grows even more desperate in_ _**Chapter Seventeen: Two Broken Brothers!** _
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Greg Oliver: Herc's comrade and fellow chopper pilot from before K-Day, now a support pilot for Lucky Seven. Like Herc, he joined the Jaeger Program in the wake of Scissure. He lost his parents and his oldest daughter, Karina, in the attack.
> 
> Daniel (Danny) Oliver: Greg's son, age 18, who survived Scissure along with his little sister, Emma. He began applying to the Jaeger Program two years before, and has finally been admitted to Class 2020-A along with Chuck. The two boys clashed frequently in the Shatterdome.
> 
> Dr. Steven Tán: Chief Medical Officer of the Jaeger Academy and Anchorage Shatterdome, late 20s, Chinese-American.
> 
> Dr. Priya Katwal: J-Tech senior Engineer, formerly NASA, now designs conn-pod support systems, Indian, late 50s.


	17. Two Broken Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stacker Pentecost struggles to aid Gipsy Danger's crew in the aftermath of Knifehead and searches for ways to keep the promise he once made to Yancy - to protect his brother. When he and Herc learn what the PPDC superiors have planned for Raleigh, the situation grows even more desperate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** I am completely blown away by the response to the last chapter. Thank you all so very much for all the thoughtful feedback! And because you're the best (also because this weekend looks to be busy) here is your update a day early! Please keep the reviews coming!_
> 
> _**Fanon Note:** Stacker's POV in this chapter references a confrontation he had with Yancy in Chapter 38 of Aurora Borealis, and Herc's POV references Chapter 10, the moment when (completely unbeknownst to the Beckets) he first set eyes on them and the Hassans. This series has two other sets of pilots (Duc and Kaori Jessop and my OCs, Jiro and Hayase Shindo) retired due to cancer from radiation exposure in the Jaegers along with Stacker Pentecost and Tamsin Sevier. After the deaths of Kaori and Jiro, Duc and Hayase were used as propaganda icons by the PPDC, which the other pilots deeply resent.)_

**Chapter Seventeen: Two Broken Brothers**

_Anchorage Shatterdome…  
February 29, 2020…_

_"_ _Yancy…"_

"Yancy…"

_Yancy…_

His name was an endless whisper in the corridors of the Shatterdome from voices choked with tears, and an endless echo in Stacker Pentecost's head.

"Yancy's gone, guys."

_Gone._

"I can't believe we lost him."

"What do we do now, sir? What about Raleigh?"

Stacker had no answer. Screams echoed in his memory. Like an airplane, the conn-pod voice recorder clearly captured the last brutal moments: Yancy's screams as the monster took him from the pod and from his brother's side. Raleigh's screams of denial and pain as his brain was crushed by the neural load and his heart by the agony of his brother's loss.

And in the silence after Knifehead sank, the dazed, helpless murmurs came through the black box recording as well: " _Yancy… Yancy…"_

_We lost him. Forgive me, Raleigh. We lost him._ He'd always worried about the Beckets, their recklessness, their disregard for the rules, especially Raleigh's. All these years, all these engagements, and it hadn't truly dawned on Stacker that Yancy might be the one to go.

In that hour after Dr. Tán's private announcement, Stacker kept a low profile, but did watch Herc Hansen and Tendo Choi make the video calls to Sydney and Panama City. The Gages too volunteered for the miserable duty of informing their fellow Rangers of the news. Stacker wasn't always visible, but he bore witness to every one of those calls.

Every Jaeger team's reactions were variations on a theme. Some, like the Tunaris, like Stephanie Lanphier and Kennedy LaRue, broke down and wept, not that Stacker blamed anyone for grieving openly at a moment like this. Others, like the Hassans, were silent and stunned, their anguish beyond even tears.

All were shocked. Not that a Ranger could die in the line of duty; none of them were blind to that bitter possibility anymore, even for pilots as skilled and successful as the Beckets had been. But that one pilot, one brother could be torn from the pod and leave the other alive.

Stacker immersed himself in all the tasks that had to be accomplished now. He was driven almost by desperation, trying to force his mind away from the memory of a semi-delirious young man, confronting him in the Los Angeles Shatterdome corridor less than a year ago, after Clawhook. _"What'll happen to him if anything happens to me?_ " Yancy had asked.

Two pilots had out-lived their partners after ending their service as Rangers, but those had been the quiet, if no less painful losses to cancer. No Ranger alive could fathom the pain that Duc Jessop had lived with since Kaori's death, or Hayase Shindo since Jiro had died.

In Manila, the world's Jaeger pilots had discovered that it was possible for even a bond as strong as the drift to be broken by force. Herc didn't talk about it, but anyone who had ever drifted knew that he would be fighting the ugly pull of that connection for the rest of his life.

Now Raleigh Becket… _Dear God. What can I possibly do for him?_

_"_ _If anything happens, you better do right by him!_ "

Stacker had promised Yancy. Only when Raleigh recovered from his injuries would his commanding officer be able to figure out how to keep that promise.

_If he recovers._ The medics thought he would, but… Stacker was bitterly aware of a small, hopeless voice in his heart. It whispered that maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing if Yancy's brother didn't make it, that it might be a mercy if Raleigh succumbed after all.

At midnight, March 1, Stacker logged onto the network and the PPDC's duty roster and Jaeger database, and changed the status of Yancy Becket to Killed In Action 2/29/20. He then forced himself to walk through the Dome to the infirmary.

Shell-shocked crew wove past him through the corridors, most having already gotten the unofficial word from LOCCENT an hour before. There were still duties to be fulfilled, post-engagement reports, the salvage and investigation under way. Even so, many of the crew, especially the younger ones, went about their business with radios in one hand and fistfuls of Kleenex in the other, and the sound of stifled sobs mixed in with the clang of machinery.

But Stacker arrived at the infirmary to another crisis, and shouts of more than just agitated medics. For a minute, he feared that Dr. Tán had been wrong, and that Gipsy's second pilot was fatally injured. And the thought occurred to his traitorous brain again that maybe it would be better if he was. In the ICU room amid the rush of medics and blaring alarms, Stacker could hear Raleigh Becket screaming.

Gipsy's off-duty crew were milling in the halls, but outside the intensive care station, the Gages were trying to physically drag Gipsy's PR rep, Carolina Olivares, away.

"Stop it!"

"Carolina, come on, you can't be here - "

"She doesn't need to see this - "

"What's going on?" Stacker barked. The group froze, and Mrs. Olivares wrenched free of the twins. She'd been crying hard, but at the moment, despite the tears on her face, she looked more furious than distraught.

Bruce Gage raised his hands placatingly at her, but said to Stacker, "Sir, Carolina shouldn't be watching this; he's crashing again, she doesn't need to see - "

"Who the hell are you to tell me what I need to see?" Olivares exploded, snapping her fingers in his face. Bruce reared back, and even Stacker was too startled to call her to order. Tears still fell, but she was practically snarling. "You men of the army think no woman is capable of mourning and still doing her duty at the same time? You think this is the first death bed I've attended? You think because I am crying that I can't handle it? This isn't the first time I've seen anyone die!"

That silenced the entire group without Stacker having to intervene. Old enough to be Stacker's mother, widow of a combat veteran from multiple wars even before K-Day, she wielded a powerful influence even over the most willful yahoos in the Corps. Apparently Bruce and Trevin had forgotten that, but Stacker doubted they would again. He was glad she'd taken the assignment to Gipsy Danger's team, now more than ever. This crew would need her now more than ever.

The room behind them had quieted, and Dr. Tán had come out and caught the tail end of Mrs. Olivares's declaration. "He's not going to die," he put in wearily. They all looked at him. "We're not going to lose him."

Tendo Choi looked near his breaking point. "Is it right?" he whispered, staring at the floor. "To force him to… live without Yancy?"

"We _can't_ let him die!" someone protested weakly.

Stacker motioned for silence and addressed Tán. "Do everything you can." The medic nodded.

"Marshal, Romeo Blue's PR liaison offered to handle the reports for me, if you'll give me permission to stay," said Olivares, her voice level despite the tears. Stacker nodded to her, and she turned to Choi and Gipsy's other crew. "Then we still have jobs to do."

"What's it matter now?" murmured one of the other LOCCENT officers.

Olivares gripped his elbow and gestured towards the intensive care room. "Raleigh is still here, and _he_ still matters. He is our job now, for his sake and for Yancy's." Several of the onlookers caught their breath. Olivares wiped her face with one hand and went on, "There's no shame in crying. But we owe it to our Rangers to put them first, even now."

Taking a deep breath, Choi nodded and looked from her to Stacker. "What can we do?"

"Let the medics work," Stacker said. "Proceed with the engagement investigation." To Tán, he added, "Report to Mrs. Olivares if there's any chance Ranger Becket might regain consciousness."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

_March 7, 2020…  
Anchorage Shatterdome…_

Herc kept himself busy volunteering for whatever needed doing in the Anchorage Shatterdome in the cold, dismal days that followed.

He spent a lot of time on the vidcomm with the other Domes, especially Sydney. "The crew says he's come 'round a few times, but not… really aware," he told the Hassans. _Translation: half his crew are having nervous breakdowns from hearing him screaming for his brother until the medics put him under again._

"2016-B was the first civilian-majority class," Stacker told him wearily at one point. "Not just the Rangers, but the entire group that made the first cut at the Academy. Keeping them disciplined was a challenge from day one." He rubbed his eyes and sighed. "Maybe I should have been stricter to start with."

"You and I've been in the service since we were eighteen," Herc replied. "No amount of rules and regs prepares you for something like this. Most of them are holding it together pretty damn well."

Stacker nodded. "Yes, I didn't mean to suggest otherwise. Mrs. Olivares and Mr. Choi are urging me to bar the media and the public from Yancy's funeral."

"That may not be a bad idea. The community memorials are, well, well-intentioned, but the press is another thing." He caught Stacker's bleak expression. "What?" Stacker eyed him, then punched up a report on his screen.

Herc frowned as he leaned forward. No, it wasn't a report, it was a proposal… for a tour.

A bloody publicity tour, even more melodramatic and overblown than the one Duc Jessop had been forced into. Parading Raleigh Becket and the ghost of his brother around the entire planet for the paparazzi and the Jaeger Flies to drool and slobber and dissect. Or, even if the kid was too bad off to recover, they'd still exploit his image and his name the same way they had Hayase Shindo after Tidal Dragon was grounded and her foster-brother died.

What Duc had gone through for the past year was grotesque enough. It stabbed at Herc to see him in the media now, the once-jovial fellow Aussie with his false smile and empty eyes, going through the motions because he was under orders and knew he was carrying a death sentence.

_"_ _Duc looks like he can't wait to be in the ground,"_ Scott used to remark. _"At least then the fucking vultures will leave him alone._ "

Duc and Kaori had had some good years, their fellow Rangers would recall, to console themselves and hope those memories could console Duc. They'd lived a good life together even before the kaiju had come along and thrown everyone's lives into chaos.

Now Herc stared at the publicity still of the twenty-one-year-old Ranger, and couldn't decide whether to put his fist through the screen or just hit his knees. "Stacker… Jesus Christ…" _No. No, they can't do this._ "This is sick. You can't let them."

"I'm putting off the UN representatives with the point that we don't know when… or if he'll recover," Stacker murmured, his eyes also on the picture of Raleigh, with that cocky, mischievous grin and bright eyes that seemed to twinkle even in a still photo.

"There's gotta be some way of protecting him." It was bad enough that Duc and Hayase had dragged on tour ever since Kaori and Jiro died. The Jessops and the Shindos had at least old enough, experienced enough from the beginning to know the score. With their cancer diagnoses, neither one really gave much of a damn of what happened after they lost their partners; the amount of time that the brass could use them as figureheads was finite.

If Raleigh lived through this without permanent physical damage… what the brass was proposing was a true life sentence.

Seven days since Yancy Becket's death, when Stacker was called to the infirmary, this time, Herc trailed after him. He kept a distance to stay out of everyone's way, but stayed within earshot. "Is he awake?" Stacker asked the medics.

"No, sir, I…" Dr. Tán sighed, looking wrung-out. "I thought for a few minutes he was coherent, but… he became distraught and tried…"

_Oh, hell._ That explained the renewed distress of Gipsy's crew milling around the infirmary. Against his better judgment, Herc looked into the ICU room, and knew at once that sight would never leave him.

The teenaged boy who'd danced with carefree abandon among his friends back in 2016 looked smaller and more vulnerable than Herc had ever imagined.

Herc's throat tightened in anguish, both for the kid unconscious in the bed and the men and women at his bedside: Gipsy's PR rep and support chief. The Jaeger they'd once supported was on her way to Oblivion Bay, one of their Rangers was floating somewhere in the Gulf of Alaska, and the other, that cute, rowdy Jaeger-scamp, was barely hanging on to life.

Physically, Raleigh wasn't as bad off as Herc had feared, but that probably wasn't a good thing. His arms were strapped down at his sides, and there were gouges near one of his IVs that told the tale of what had happened when he was "distraught."

Herc glared at the medics. "This your idea of 'first, do no harm'?" he hissed.

Completely unfair, but fair was a long way away from Anchorage these days. Dr. Tán didn't even look offended. Two more of Gipsy's crew slipped into Raleigh's room – as Herc's luck would have it, it was that little engineer that Scott had been harassing in Manila, and the black pod tech who Herc vaguely remembered as having witnessed the aftermath. However, neither of them even cast a second glance at Herc, for what miniscule relief he could draw from that.

"Shift change, folks," murmured one of the nurses, tugging at Choi and Olivares. "Come on. We had a deal; you all take turns and get some rest. He needs you rested."

"'kay." Choi sighed and hauled himself to his feet. Raleigh twitched and tossed his head as Olivares kissed him on the forehead.

The drivesuit tech, whose nametag read _C. Warner_ , considered the scene and Raleigh's restraints. "He came around?" Choi nodded. "And… he knows?"

"Yancy…" Everyone flinched, even Stacker. It was all Herc could do not to cover his ears to blot out that voice. "Yance… _please,_ Yancy…"

Warner looked like he might bolt, but the little engineer went to take Olivares's place at the bedside and stroked Raleigh's hand. Warner hesitantly joined her as the medics chivvied Choi and Olivares from the room. The girl's gentleness didn't seem to give Raleigh any more peace than before. Herc saw the Marshal heading back out the door and hurried after him.

He found Stacker in another shouting match over the vidcomm. _This really is a sign of the apocalypse; Stacker Pentecost raising his voice twice in three months._ "Raleigh Becket is not in ANY condition to be interviewed by the media!"

" _I didn't say we had to do it immediately -_ " It was Secretary General Krieger and a group of the American brass.

_Of course, it's bloody Krieger, and the same bastards who sat there and watched Ketteridge blackmail me into sending my son here. Exploiting kids is in their fucking job description._

" _It can be sensitively handled; the public is grieving, Marshal!_ " one of the Americans blathered. " _Yancy Becket was a beloved figure -_ "

" – And _Raleigh_ Becket is grieving more than anyone else," Stacker practically snarled. "Dr. Tán is not even certain of the extent of the brain damage he suffered from piloting alone."

" _All we want is a report!_ " Krieger cooed. " _We're very concerned for the welfare of all our Rangers -_ "

A scoff escaped Herc, and Stacker ended the call in a hurry before the brass realized they had an eavesdropper. "Bullshit," Herc said matter-of-factly. Pentecost leaned heavily on his desk, looking like he might have gone across it if he'd been physically in the room with any of the bastards. "You're not gonna let them do this."

Stacker closed his eyes. "As with you, they're not above treating people as bargaining chips. The PPDC liaisons to the UN are of the 'opinion' that Raleigh's status as the surviving hero of Gipsy Danger will drum up support for funding more Mark-5 Jaegers – which they will not greenlight otherwise."

By this point, Herc was beyond shock or rage. "Maybe we ought to preempt them. Call them out in broad daylight. About Chuck, about Raleigh. The paparazzi may be malleable, always looking for the sensational spin, but the general public is still more likely to sympathize with the kids than with the chess masters." Stacker winced, and Herc smiled grimly. "I wasn't including you in that, you know."

" _You_ aren't." The man rubbed the bridge of his nose and was quiet for a long time. What he said next threw Herc. "Yancy did."

"What?" Herc was astonished. He wouldn't have pegged Yancy Becket for having authority issues – at least, not as much as himself, and he still thought well of Stacker Pentecost.

Almost as if he was talking to himself instead of Herc, Stacker said distantly, "He saw this coming… not exactly, but he was a realist. Last year, after Clawhook, he confronted me about how Duc and Hayase have been used. I… I promised him that if anything happened to him, I wouldn't allow that to happen to his brother."

_God._ As if Stacker didn't have enough weight on his conscience already. "You think they're going to push it, then?"

Stacker nodded. "Physically, it looks like Raleigh will recover. Maybe even enough to…" he shook his head, but Herc stiffened.

"There's a chance he could pilot again?"

"If you could call it that, but who with…" Stacker trailed off and opened his eyes even as Herc's heart began to speed up. "Herc… no."

But Herc's mind was already starting to race. . _My God. It's staring us right in the face, and we almost bloody missed it._

The answer. The answer to all the higher-ups' cold-blooded manipulations, the way out of the bind that both Herc and Stacker had found themselves in. The answer to keeping Herc's sixteen-year-old out of a conn-pod, the answer to getting some kind of barrier around the shattered young Ranger in the infirmary.

The balm for the void in Herc's own soul, the counterweight to the endless, wrenching pull on the bond that he'd had no choice but to destroy. It could ease the suffering that bright-eyed kid had waiting for him when his injuries healed and the drugs weren't enough anymore. Herc could be there for Raleigh in the drift.

Maybe this could make it up to Yancy for the unwarranted scorn Herc had felt towards him after Manila. _I was complete shit to my own little brother, Yancy, I know that. But maybe I could do better this time around._ _It couldn't be worse than making him go on alone._

Could it?

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** Herc imagines a way out of letting his 16-year-old pilot a Jaeger and preventing Raleigh Becket from being exploited in the aftermath of Knifehead - he could partner with Raleigh. But Stacker fears putting Herc and Raleigh into a conn-pod is the path to another disaster in **Chapter Eighteen: Willpower!** _
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Dr. Steven Tán: Chief Medical Officer of the Jaeger Academy and Anchorage Shatterdome, late 20s, Chinese-American.
> 
> Jiro and Hayase Shindo: pilots of _Tidal Dragon_ , Japan's Mark-2. Foster siblings from Nagasaki, Japanese martial arts teachers in their mid-30s who helped develop Jaeger Bushido. Tidal Dragon had only one engagement (Razorfin in mid-2018) before her reactor design was proven unsafe, and exposed the Shindos to high radiation. Jiro died less than a year later.
> 
> Carolina Olivares: Gipsy Danger's Public Relations Representative, handles scheduling, public appearances, etc. Late 60s, Mexican-American from San Francisco, widow who came out of retirement to join PPDC after K-Day. Initially working with Romeo Blue, she was reassigned to Gipsy Danger at Stacker Pentecost's request due to his belief that the Beckets needed a firm hand.
> 
> Lea Franklin - age 20, lived in San Jose, California. Sole survivor of K-Day out of her family because she was traveling abroad with a school group. Extremely gifted, but has intense social anxiety due to PTSD. Attended the Jaeger Academy with the Beckets and Tendo Choi in 2016 and became a J-Tech Engineer.
> 
> Christian Warner: Gipsy Danger's drivesuit technician, 30ish, African-American from Atlanta, GA, attended Jaeger Academy with the Beckets and his sister, Chloe, who is now in K-Watch.


	18. Willpower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herc imagines a way out of letting his 16-year-old pilot a Jaeger and preventing Raleigh Becket from being exploited in the aftermath of Knifehead - he could partner with Raleigh. But Stacker fears putting Herc and Raleigh into a conn-pod is the path to another disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** _ _Thank you all so much for the incredible feedback on these sad chapters! I can promise a break coming up in the post-Knifehead grief. For anyone who recently started reading, there is more of the headcanons surrounding this story on my Tumblr: 3Fluffies, under the tag "Generation K." I've written headcanons about the Mark-1 through Mark-4 Jaegers and their pilots, original character guides, and timelines for the early years of the war through the end of 2019._
> 
> _**Fanon Note:** _ _The plot of this chapter was something I'd pondered for a long time - with the parallels in Raleigh and Herc's lives, most notably the loss of their brother and partner, surely it was contemplated that they might be drift compatible. Herc seemed to have a soft spot for Raleigh in the movie, so I decided to explore it a little._

**Chapter Eighteen: Willpower**

_Anchorage Shatterdome…  
March 15, 2020…_

On paper, Stacker supposed, the solution Herc Hansen was contemplating did look quite good. But every instinct in Stacker's consciousness was screaming that this was a nightmare scenario, and that it needed to be halted as desperately as Krieger and the UN's notions of turning Raleigh Becket into a public figurehead.

On paper, Herc Hansen and Raleigh Becket had possibilities. Their EEG scans and other objective measures of compatibility fell well within the range for "good potential." Herc had been going through the testing wringer in his thus-far-unsuccessful attempts with other pilot candidates, but although there'd been over a dozen likely matches, everyone had fallen short in actual testing.

Maybe Raleigh would too.

Yet, Stacker had a deep, grinding fear in his gut that the actual worst-case-scenario wouldn't be that the testing failed, but that it succeeded.

Nobody else in the Shatterdome or the Academy knew of Herc's notion yet. Stacker had managed to put the brakes on this train so far. Raleigh was still unconscious more often than not, and barely coherent or unresponsive when he was aware. It would be weeks or months before he would in any shape to get into a conn-pod again, if ever. It was still a toss-up as to whether he'd be willing to attempt it.

_But he might be. He and Herc might even be drift compatible. And that might still be no less catastrophic than the UN's bloody victory tour._

To Herc's credit, as heartsick as he'd been after the blows he'd been dealt, he wasn't so single-minded as to miss Stacker's distress. "What's bothering you? You think Raleigh won't recover?" Herc gestured to the latest reports from the medics. "Something I don't know about the brain damage?"

Stacker shook his head. "No, none of the objective data's being kept from you."

Herc folded his arms, gazing out the window of Stacker's office. "What's your subjective problem, then – and don't say you don't have one. You've usually got a better poker face than this."

"Yes, I am concerned," Stacker admitted, but as he feared, Herc was on the defensive.

"I know, my track record with brothers isn't stellar. But am I that bad an option compared to where Raleigh is right now?"

Reminding himself that Herc had lost near enough everyone he'd ever trusted, Stacker chose his words carefully. "My doubts have nothing to do with your character. On the contrary. If our superiors took that tack with as little regard for Raleigh's recovery as they have the publicity tack, you'd be my first choice."

Herc wasn't consoled. "First only when there's no other options, I get it."

_Like father, like son,_ he restrained himself from remarking. "No, I don't think you _do '_ get it.' You're the strongest man I've ever met, Hercules, and believe me, by this stage in my experience, that's really saying something!" Herc stared at him. "What you did in Manila is something Caitlin Lightcap had previously called physically impossible, and any experienced Ranger would've deemed it emotionally impossible. My God!" The enormity of it still staggered him, and he let it show now, if only so Herc _might_ see that more had come from that catastrophe than his own agony and loneliness. "I…" So many people were paying lipservice to Herc's future, to his son's, to Raleigh's, to humanity's. So Stacker dared to make a confession in the hope that the man would see that however hard to hear his words, they were honest. "If it had been Tamsin… I'm not sure I could have done it. No matter what I saw."

Silence hung between them, then Herc's shoulders bent and for a horrible moment, Stacker feared he'd broken the man altogether. Fists clenched on Stacker's desk, Herc ground out, "It hasn't stopped. You… you talk about it like it's in the past, but it's not. It's still here, every fucking minute, I want to go find him. Pretend it didn't – pretend _he_ didn't… it never stops."

Stacker put out a hand, hovering just over Herc's shoulder, and lowered it only when Herc set eyes on it and didn't pull away. He tightened the grip, and thought – or rather hoped – that it was at least a little comforting. _I know. Maybe it's not possible to understand what you're going through, but I do know, and unlike so many of our superiors, I see no reason to disregard those considerations even in wartime._ Especially since the approach Herc was starting to consider could have ramifications far beyond just his own welfare and Raleigh's.

He took a different approach. "My little girl has Ranger ambitions as well. Luckily for me, she's almost two years younger than Chuck. But what worries me about her ambitions is that she wants to avenge her family. There isn't a pilot or member of the Corps who doesn't have some emotional stake in this war, but to treat a Jaeger as the vehicle to a revenge quest… the drift will pose a problem."

Herc caught his meaning and sighed. "Yeah, I think I see what you're getting at. Even if it was both the same quest… sort of. Although…"

"Close enough that in your hearts, it would make little difference. Those memories will enormous power, and both of you would be vulnerable."

Herc straightened and paced around the desk. "What about outside the drift. We are getting ahead of ourselves, I'll grant," he muttered, raising his hands. "Would Raleigh agree…" There was a glimmer then of emotion in the older Ranger's eyes that Stacker almost missed, vulnerable and doubtful and longing. "I barely know him, I realize that."

Stacker considered the situation. "I still don't want this… possibility to become popular knowledge. There's simply too much public attention being cast on Raleigh's future as well as yours. But I think this might be the time to have a discussion with some who know him best."

"His crew? Maybe some of their medics?"

Stacker shook his head. "I was thinking fellow Rangers. Siblings like them. Perhaps the Gages or Tunnaris, but…"

Herc caught his drift. "If you want a team who know the dynamics of working with a sibling _and_ who knew Raleigh and Yancy well… you'll want to look back at Sydney."

"And? Would you trust the Hassans with this?"

He was pleased by how quickly the man nodded. "They have good judgment. I'd take seriously anything they have to say." Herc sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Though… I hate giving them any more bad news. Losing Yancy hit them hard. If the funeral's not soon, Ketteridge won't give them leave."

"That's when the vultures will come in from all directions. Before then, we need a plan." Stacker prayed he was right to bring anyone else into the debate, let alone Rangers who were already mourning a friend and classmate – and who most likely held Hercules Hansen in high esteem. But he needed back-up. Now he just had to hope that his estimation of the Hassans was accurate.

For all they looked tired and unhappy when they answered his call on the vidcomm, they didn't betray nearly as much distress as Stacker suspected they felt. He considered that a good sign, along with the fact that both sisters showed the exact same reaction to hearing of the PPDC brass's proposed future for Raleigh Becket: slack-jawed disbelief and barely-contained disgust.

"Sir…" Devi Hassan put a quick hand on her sister's arm as Susanti looked like she might lose her grip and start shouting. "I think… that's a horrific thing to do to Raleigh, and the fact that they've done it to Hayase Shindo and Duc Jessop doesn't make it any less wrong. I'm sure I speak for every other Ranger on that score."

"I expect you're right," Stacker admitted. "Ranger Hansen and I are discussing options for preventing it without the, ah, conflicts that you witnessed after Manila." The sisters winced, and in the corner of Stacker's eye, so did Herc.

"What if he leaves the Corps?" Susanti asked, a tremor in her voice from more than just anger. "Has he… he hasn't been released from medical yet?"

"Not yet. It'll be several weeks."

Herc's arms were folded, his eyes on the table in front of the holo screen. "They'd find ways to bully him into staying if they could. He needs allies."

The Hassans looked at each other, then at them. "What could we do?"

Cautiously, Stacker said, "One option that Ranger Hansen and I are exploring is... seeking to return Ranger Becket to active duty as a pilot, with a new partner." He watched the women and held his breath for their reaction.

They looked no less shocked by that notion, and almost as appalled. "What?" Devi blurted. "But… with who?"

"Me," said Herc, plunging straight to the heart of the matter. "In Striker Eureka. If we were compatible, and the early tests say we might be."

This time it was the younger Hassan who put her guard back up faster, while Devi's expression flashed from horror to wide-eyed hope. Devi opened her mouth, then started, as though Susanti had thrown an elbow – which Stacker knew she hadn't, not a physical one, anyway. The sisters looked at each other, then back at the screen. "Herc," Susanti said slowly. "Have you… really thought this through?"

Herc didn't visibly deflate, but Stacker felt for him. It had to sting, to know even his Dome-mates might be objecting. "You've got something I ought to think about, you say?"

Now Devi too was avoiding his eyes. "Is Raleigh even going to be fit to pilot again? I mean…" she cringed. "Mentally?"

"The medical team is uncertain," Stacker admitted. "However, even at this point, certain parties within the PPDC and UN are urging that plans be made for public appearances unless we can find a way for Raleigh to be occupied with something else."

The sisters looked at each other again. "Is there no other option?" Susanti breathed. "No way for him to be _free_ after this?" She finally looked Herc in the eye. "After what he's gone through, losing Yancy that way… it's not _about_ you, Herc. I think putting him back in a conn-pod with anyone at all is cruel! If I lost my partner, there'd be hardly anything left of - " she caught herself and winced, but not before Herc flinched. "Sorry," she said in a small voice.

Herc looked down and inhaled deeply. "It's all right," he muttered. "I wanted your straight opinion."

"It's wrong," Devi murmured, looking down. She visibly forced herself to meet Herc's eyes again. "To just… try to plug someone else into that space, let alone..." She couldn't bring herself to finish that sentence, but they all knew how it went: _Let alone someone who's hurting from the same loss. All that grief, all that loneliness – squared._

So Stacker hadn't misjudged these two. They were fond of Herc Hansen, grieving for Raleigh and Yancy, but still managed to force some objectivity. _I haven't done nearly enough for any of the Rangers. Every team deserves more than their superiors have given them._ "My concern is the two-fold PTSD involved here," he pointed out, to take some of the pressure off them. "Any trauma can endanger a drift."

"We could be compatible," Herc replied, but much of the momentum was going out of him. Stacker hated to see that, but Herc took him by surprise when he finally articulated it. "He's lost his brother, I've lost mine. They want to stick me in a conn-pod with my kid after Chuck and I watched a nuke dropped on his mother. How's that any better?"

"I…" _Never said it was?_

But to his further surprise, Devi dared to challenge it. "Maybe not 'better,' no. But Chuck can think for himself, and he's not brain damaged or in shock." Herc stiffened, but she held her ground. "That fiasco in December wasn't all Ketteridge. Chuck did know what he was doing."

"We know you don't want to lose your boy," Susanti said. "But it's not right to use Raleigh to try and avoid it."

"I didn't mean it like that," Herc protested. "I wouldn't steamroll him, Suze!"

"Not on purpose, no, and neither would he, but… Herc, don't you see? You and Raleigh Becket… it's too close! Just like you said, you without your brother, him without his – it's so bloody perfect, like some sort of twisted fairy tale!" she insisted. "Strong emotions are dangerous for drifting; we've all been taught that! Even if you and Raleigh were compatible, good God, the rabbits would make a fucking black hole for both of you! All he'd want is another Yancy, all you'd want is another Scott. I think it'd destroy you both."

Stacker shifted to get himself back into Herc's line of vision. Herc gave him a bleak look as he admitted, "That is essentially my fear. You and Raleigh have now gone through very similar experiences, but those memories would be a perfect storm. In a conn-pod, that would be very dangerous."

Herc scowled. "Then why let Chuck at it?"

Devi sighed. "Because he can control himself. And he's… like a lot of kids out there. He's seen it all fall apart, lost people too young, and of course, he's not over it. Nobody is. But if he's strong enough to join the fight, _and_ able to choose, he deserves a chance to try. That's the difference. Raleigh's… God." She looked away, biting her lip, and Susanti finished for her.

"He's not going to be whole, not after this. Not for a long time, if ever. We saw what destabilizing did to them last year, after Clawhook. You can't… make decisions at a time like this. Not for Raleigh even if he'd let you, and he probably would. But it's wrong. He's less in possession of his faculties than Chuck, and that's going to be true for a long time. Springing this on him would be taking advantage."

Stacker nodded. _He's defenseless, just as you were after Manila. More than you were. The only decent course of action is to get him away from the vultures._ How they were going to manage that was still up in the air. But partnership with Herc Hansen, consumed by grief and rage and desperation - and loneliness - wasn't the answer. _You'd consume each other and destroy yourselves. I owe you both too much to allow that._

"It's a fairy tale, Herc," Susanti said again. "Too good to be true, and it's not right. Don't..." She bit her lip. "Please, don't do that to him. Pushing him back into combat's no better than pushing him into publicity. It's not protecting him. It'll kill him."

* * *

Were Devi and Suze right, Herc wondered. Was this pure selfishness on Herc's part, wanting to use Raleigh the same way the brass did?

He'd no sooner slunk back to his temporary quarters than he had an incoming call from Sydney. He almost didn't answer it. Inertia and habit brought his hand to the keyboard more than a real desire to talk to anyone.

It was Devi. "Herc, are you all right?"

He managed not to scoff. "No worse off than before."

She looked like hell. He could only look at her for a few seconds. He supposed he probably didn't look much better. "Have you seen him?"

"Raleigh? Yeah, I've been to medical. He hasn't been… aware, not when I've been by, anyway." He hesitated, then muttered, "I've seen the EEG scans. The wavelengths. We're in range for potential compatibility." But he could tell immediately that she wasn't encouraged.

_Fucking hell, am I really such a horrific thought of a partner for one of their golden boys? Not fair, Herc._

"Why not, Dev? What's so wrong with me?"

" _Nothing!_ " she practically spat. "It's not about you! Nobody's got the right to make plans for him when he's not even coherent after his brother got - " She broke off and turned away, her fist up to her mouth, and Herc's throat tightened in turn. "They've got _no right_ ," she hissed. "Not to use him for propaganda, not to use him…" When she turned back to the vidcomm, her eyes were dry, if red, flashing with rage. "Not to fill in for what you're missing, Herc. _Chuck_ made a choice." Her chin went up as she saw Herc bristle. "Maybe a bad one, maybe a stupid one, but it was his. I'll say it, Herc: with things the way they are now, better Chuck than Raleigh in a conn-pod, a thousand times over."

Herc scowled. "Would he have done it if Ketteridge hadn't put him up to it?"

"Don't bloody tell me you're that out of touch. What's he been studying and training for all these years, a humanities degree?"

To Herc's complete astonishment, laughter burst out of him. "'Course I'm out of touch," he muttered, having to look away from the screen himself now. "I'm the most worthless shit parent to ever walk the earth, haven't you heard?"

"And I'm not a parent at all, just watching from the cheap seats and giving unsolicited advice, as my sister likes to remind me." He looked back, and found her smiling again. He startled himself by how relieved he suddenly felt to see her smile. She sighed and shook her head. "Give your boy a chance. He's invested everything he's got in this, including your good opinion. Let him have his shot. The kaiju didn't give anybody a choice, and they don't give a shit who's too young. Raleigh…" She swallowed and finished, "If he decides he wants to stay, to try and fight again, he'll know where to find us all. He deserves his freedom."

"The brass may not be ready to give it to him," Herc pointed out quietly.

"I know." Devi's eyes hardened. "And if it comes to that… we should have his back. Whatever he decides. But leave the decision to him. Even if it means…" She swallowed again. "Even if it means letting him go."

Yancy Becket had been her lover, but Herc was suddenly very aware that Devi Hassan was grieving just as much or maybe even more for Raleigh. _Well, why shouldn't she? Yancy's free, his suffering's done with. Nothing and nobody'll ever be able to hurt him again._

Seeing the fragile, tormented figure in the infirmary stabbed at Herc's heart, every time he remembered the bright-eyed boy in front of the cameras, dancing with the crews. Devi and Suze had been among those dancers, once upon a time.

It had been a fairy tale, back then. _Once upon a time, even Rangers were free to be kids._ Now Chuck wasn't even as old as Raleigh'd been that night. _I saw him dance and imagined my boy, but look how it ended. What kind of end is there for my kid?_

Not one in Herc Hansen's control. Not anymore. Chuck had chosen. He couldn't have failed to know how it might end. Herc's kid was many things, but he wasn't stupid. "It wasn't just selfish, me thinking of drifting with Raleigh," he heard himself say. "I thought I could help him."

"I know. We all do." Devi smiled weakly. "And we're grateful. God knows, Team Gipsy's not…" She glared absently away from the camera. "Ketteridge lowered the boom on us going. The medis stay it'll be weeks yet, and we'd have no coverage in Sydney at all. Marshal Quijano said Steffie and Kennedy can go up for – for Yancy's funeral, but not more than a day… it's the same with the Gages. On-duty Rangers and their crews have to stay on-duty." She wiped her eyes and smiled again. "They've noticed everyone who's been looking out for him. We all have, and nobody will forget. If… when Raleigh's up to it, if he wants… any of us, he'll know where to find us."

* * *

After ending that call, Herc found himself staring at the initial scan results on compatibility. He and Raleigh were in the high potential range. After staring at them for a long time, as if they'd reveal some new secret, he closed Raleigh's file, then stared at the file that he hadn't opened yet. The one from Class 2020-A at the Academy, now in its second term.

Finally, he opened it: four potential matches. One from the US, one from China, two from Australia. Danny Oliver showed strong potential, ironically.

The highest percentile match of all was Charles Hansen.

_"_ _He deserves a chance to try."_

_"_ _Why won't you even let me try?!_ "

Herc closed the file and went down to the infirmary. Gipsy Danger's crew was changing shifts again, with Choi and one of the other LOCCENT techs taking over for Olivares and the little engineer. Stacker was hovering nearby, looking in on them as well. A handful of Gipsy's other crew were in the hallway. The little engineer blinked in surprise at a black woman in a K-Watch uniform next to one of the drivesuit techs. "Hey, Lea," said the K-Watcher.

"Hey, Chloe. When'd you get here?"

"Last night. Bingham gave me leave until eight weeks." Chloe peered at the infirmary doorway and cast the same bleak look that everyone on Team Gipsy seemed to wear lately. "Has he woken up?"

The girl, Lea, nodded. "He's awake a little more lately. He… knows. Dr. Tán thinks he'll be all right, physically anyway."

"He cried," murmured one of the LOCCENT techs. The onlookers caught their breath, and he smiled weakly. "Carolina got him to talk a little. Then he cried. And he didn't fight Dr. Tán this time."

The drivesuit tech – C. Warner, maybe a relative of the K-Watcher – shut his eyes and leaned against the wall. "Damn, Cady. That's the best news we've had in two weeks."

"I know, right?"

The crew fell silent as Stacker wove back through them. Herc stole a glance through the doorway of Raleigh's room. At least he wasn't strapped down anymore. He still looked small. Helpless, alone. _Not alone._ Tendo Choi was on one side of him, another of Team Gipsy on the other. His crew would watch over him.

"Herc?" asked Stacker.

He forced his gaze away from the young Ranger to focus on the Marshal. "I'm heading back to the Academy," he said quietly. "For testing."

_With Chuck._ He didn't say that and didn't need to. Stacker knew. "Good luck, Ranger."

That was that, or so Herc thought, but to his complete surprise, as he went off down the corridor, someone followed him. "Ranger Hansen?" It was that shy little engineer, Lea something. She still looked nervous, but a lot less vulnerable than in the nightmare vision he had from Scott's drift memories. Herc paused, unsure what to say, and the girl said softly, "Thank you."

He blinked. "For what?"

She gestured back towards the infirmary. "For your help, since… the engagement. We've seen you around, and… everyone's grateful."

So maybe Devi hadn't just been trying to make him feel better. Awkwardly, Herc studied the walls, then muttered, "If you lot need anything… I won't be far. I'm off duty for a long stretch. Say the word."

"Thank you, Ranger."

He almost pointed out that he wasn't one anymore, but… _once a Ranger, always a Ranger, aren't we? Stacker, Raleigh Becket, Duc Jessop, Hayase Shindo. Hercules Hansen._ Maybe it wasn't just selfishness that had kept him here, looking out for that kid.

_Let him go. He knows where to find you if he wants to. Let him have a choice._

Let Chuck have his chance.

He took the PPDC's ferry across to Kodiak and shook off the sense of foreboding that seemed to grow the closer he got to the Academy. _Forward, Herc_. _You haven't got a right to Raleigh, or anybody else who didn't get a choice yet about testing with you. Give Chuck his chance._

Given how pissed his son was at him, Chuck might well not want to test at all anymore, especially if the initial round of scan percentiles showed him with some good prospects. Well, they'd deal with that if it came to it.

* * *

_Jaeger Academy, Kodiak Island…_

Team Chrome was supervising combat testing in the Kwoon when Chuck saw Herc for the first time that term. The mood at the Academy was grim after Gipsy Danger went down, but worse in Chuck's mind was the anticipation of his old man harrumphing his way over to give a "this is all the terrible things that can happen" lecture. Class 2020-A had already gotten something similar about half a dozen times from the fightmasters and instructors, but Chuck's classmates stared at him enough already. From Ranger Hercules Hansen… he might as well just call Chuck out in front of everyone.

Chuck wished he hadn't agreed to drift test with his old man. But that had been a condition from Ketteridge for his support, and he'd made it very clear how much he was risking on Chuck's behalf. _"This isn't all about you, Mr. Hansen. This is about humanity's future, which will be in the hands of the most powerful Jaeger ever built. I believe in your father's skills, and Australia needs him at the helm of that mech, so do not make a liar of me._ "

So Chuck was as stuck with Herc as Herc was with him.

It galled him to hear about the old man rushing from Shatterdome to Shatterdome, testing with anyone and everyone as if even the worst failed candidate was a better option than Chuck. Chuck didn't even have that option apart from the paltry few dozen who'd made the first cut with this class.

It was easier to dwell on drift testing than the fact that the best Jaeger in the world was on her way to Oblivion Bay, with one of the pilots' bodies somewhere out in the ocean, and the other pilot dying in the Anchorage Shatterdome.

"Did you ever meet them?" Xichi Po, one of the Chinese candidates, asked him. "The Beckets or the Lis?"

The Chinese crowd had already been subdued when the term had started. The loss of Horizon Brave had hit that country hard. Chuck found himself more drawn to them, since they didn't find his father as interesting as a result. Xichi and her cousin Lo Hin Shen were two of the most promising candidates in the class. Chuck couldn't decide whether to root for them or root for one of them to foul up in testing so he could take a shot at partnering with them.

"They never came to Sydney," he told them during warm-ups. Xichi Po and Lo Hin (or "PoLo" as the irreverent in the class called them) were polite enough not to comment on Chuck's old man possibly being part of the reason the Lis were dead.

To his intense relief, Danny Oliver never mentioned it either. Chuck was pretty disgusted to see the wanker with him in Class 2020-A's eighty-eight survivors of the first cut, but Oliver didn't say much to him, and he was willing enough to pretend they were strangers. They hadn't spoken at all during the first term, and were cautiously polite during the second when they had to interact.

Two weeks into the second term, everyone got their initial brain scan compatibility results… and Danny and Chuck were on each other's lists: strong potential.

They stared at the lists, then looked up and met each other's eyes… and Chuck was never sure who started laughing first. Their classmates eyed them, half amused, half alarmed. Even amid trying to parcel out potential partners, Chuck wasn't the most amicable of blokes.

Chuck shook his head. "If any of those techs were from home, I'd say someone was putting one over on us."

"Maybe they put the electrodes on backwards," Danny suggested, and they both laughed harder. It was like someone had pulled a plug in their heads.

And as luck would have it, that was when someone hissed, and he looked over his shoulder to find his old man watching them. _Ah, shit._ Danny looked almost as disconcerted as he was.

Ranger Amarok was giving them an amused smirk while Ranger Flint was talking with Fightmaster Tessori as Herc came in. Chuck lost his humor in a hurry, but to his intense relief, his old man didn't approach him in front of the others, just joined the clutch of instructors. Then Oliver sucked in his breath and rattled his sheet slightly to get Chuck's attention.

He pointed to a name on both of their lists.

On Daniel Oliver's list: _Hercules Hansen, Strong Potential_.

On Chuck's list: _Hercules Hansen, Highest Potential_.

If the numbers weren't lying, then Herc and Chuck really did have some incredible synch to their brain waves. According to Dr. Lightcap, almost nobody had percentiles like that except the twins and triplets in the Corps. Then again, this was the first time a parent and child had tested.

Something sizzled in Chuck's guts then, not the frustration-driven anxiety that had dogged him for the past ten weeks. Something almost like… hope.

_Maybe we could really do this_.

Where the hell had that thought come from?

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** _ _A new era begins in the Jaeger Program as Herc and Chuck begin testing for drift compatibility_ _and take the first steps into each other's heads. They and their fellow Rangers and trainees have many past and present obstacles to overcome in_ _**Chapter Nineteen: Dial-Up!** _
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Dr. Steven Tán: Chief Medical Officer of the Jaeger Academy and Anchorage Shatterdome, late 20s, Chinese-American.
> 
> Jiro and Hayase Shindo: pilots of _Tidal Dragon_ , Japan's Mark-2. Foster siblings from Nagasaki, Japanese martial arts teachers in their mid-30s who helped develop Jaeger Bushido. Tidal Dragon had only one engagement (Razorfin in mid-2018) before her reactor design was proven unsafe, and exposed the Shindos to high radiation. Jiro died less than a year later.
> 
> Carolina Olivares: Gipsy Danger's Public Relations Representative, handles scheduling, public appearances, etc. Late 60s, Mexican-American from San Francisco, widow who came out of retirement to join PPDC after K-Day. Initially working with Romeo Blue, she was reassigned to Gipsy Danger at Stacker Pentecost's request due to his belief that the Beckets needed a firm hand.
> 
> Lea Franklin - age 20, lived in San Jose, California. Sole survivor of K-Day out of her family because she was traveling abroad with a school group. Extremely gifted, but has intense social anxiety due to PTSD. Attended the Jaeger Academy with the Beckets and Tendo Choi in 2016 and became a J-Tech Engineer.
> 
> Christian Warner: Gipsy Danger's drivesuit technician, age 30, African-American from Atlanta, GA, attended Jaeger Academy with the Beckets and his sister, Chloe, who is now in K-Watch.
> 
> Chloe Warner: K-Watch worker in Honolulu, transferred after she and her brother Christian failed to become Rangers at Academy. Age 28.
> 
> Cady Spencer: Gipsy Danger LOCCENT Technician (along with Tendo Choi), Filipino-American, age 30 from Portland, Oregon.
> 
> Daniel (Danny) Oliver: Age 18, son of support chopper pilot Greg Oliver, survived Scissure along with his little sister, Emma. He began applying to the Jaeger Program two years before, and has finally been admitted to Class 2020-A along with Chuck. The two boys clashed frequently in the Shatterdome.


	19. Dial-Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new era begins in the Jaeger Program as Herc and Chuck begin testing for drift compatibility and take the first steps into each other's heads. They and their fellow Rangers and trainees have many past and present obstacles to overcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** Many thanks to all of you for the amazing feedback on the last few chapters! Please keep it coming! I'm traveling next weekend, so I may not get a chance to update, but with any luck all the events of this chapter will tide you over._
> 
>  
> 
> **  
> _Canon_  
>  **  
>  _**Note:** This story (and the rest of the Generation K series) follows the format that Travis Beacham gave in his blog for the Jaeger Academy: it is a 6-month intensive training broken into three 8-week terms. _  
>  _The first is boot-camp style officer training, the second focuses on drift compatibility testing and pons training, and the third on full drift practice and Jaeger pilot team training. We're now about a week into the second term._

**Chapter Nineteen: Dial-Up**

_Jaeger Academy, Kodiak Island…  
March 16, 2020…_

It had to be stupid to feel this nervous. Chuck was frustrated with himself. He'd sparred with his father before, when Herc had felt like indulging him in the Kwoon back in Sydney. His consolation was that his fellow candidates seemed to be just as apprehensive (and almost as awkward) about squaring off against Hercules Hansen.

Fightmaster Tessori murmured something to Ilisapie Flint, Chrome Brutus's right hemisphere, and she was the one who stepped up to challenge Herc first. "Remember," Tessori told the candidates as the fighters entered the ring. "This is not a fight. The object is not to win. Nor is it to make friends."

Normally, Chuck liked watching the Rangers spar. But since Term Two had started, everything and everyone had been lackluster. Commenting on it only got his fellow candidates glaring at him, and Evie from the UK huffed, "They're _sad_ , you insensitive git!"

"They're supposed to be Rangers, you stupid - " _cunt._ He bit back the epithet… but only just. There were worse things than thinking he might sound like his old man: _sounding like Scott._ From the look she shot him, it was almost as if she'd heard what he hadn't said.

As luck would have it, Evie Nakano was another potential partner on Chuck list from pons science.

It was the first time Chuck had seen Herc spar with anyone aside from Scott and the crews in the Sydney Shatterdome. Ranger Flint was good with the hanbō, more polished than him and using her smaller size and speed to her advantage. She won the first match, then Herc asked for two out of three, so she beat him again. Chuck managed not to smirk, and Ilisapie's partner, Zeke Amarok, challenged him next. Herc won that set.

Then it was the candidates' turn. They all just looked at each other. Tessori checked Herc's list, then asked Evie, "Nakano-san, do you wish to test with Ranger Hansen?"

Chuck wondered if he'd have a choice when it came down to him. From the way Evie twitched, he could tell she was restraining herself from looking at him, but then she nodded briskly and took her place against Herc. Up until tonight, she'd been a cautious fighter, but she went at Herc with more aggression than Chuck had ever seen – and left herself vulnerable. She lost the match four hits to one.

Danny Oliver was fucking terrified, and it showed. The hanbō practically wobbled in his hands, and he was skittering all over the mat, playing a solely defensive game. Finally, Herc backed off and said in disbelief, "Relax, will you, kid? You know I don't bloody bite!"

But they all knew it wasn't Herc himself that Oliver was worrying about, even though neither combatant cast a glance in Chuck's direction. "Drift compatibility requires respect," said Tessori, mercifully addressing his remarks to the room in general. "It requires trust."

_Trust. Yeah._ To Chuck's mortification, his face was getting hot. _How's that supposed to work again? How was it ever supposed to work?_ Who'd used to tell him that? The Hassans. He winced inwardly.

_"_ _It's not about being the best at Bushido or maths or memorizing the hydraulics layouts,_ " Indra Hassan would say when he let Chuck watch the drills in LOCCENT. " _Drift compatibility's got nothing to do with brains or even how bad you want to be a Ranger. It's about trust and respect. You need to let someone else into your mind, and they have to trust you enough to let you into theirs._ "

Watching Devi and Susanti, even Herc and Scott, it had seemed so easy. It had been a foregone conclusion that Chuck would manage to partner with someone. Even when Marshal Ketteridge and he had talked, and he'd known Herc wouldn't like him applying to the Academy so soon, he'd been so sure his dad would come around.

If he didn't…

Then it was Chuck's turn. Hanbōs in hand, he and Herc stared at each other for an embarrassingly long time. Tessori had to prompt Herc. "Ranger?"

_Get it together, Chuck!_ Chuck shook himself out of the trance, and saw awareness of the flight flicker in Herc's eyes then too. Herc would be expecting him to be aggressive; they were both aggressive fighters. He'd have to watch out for falling into the same trap as Evie.

They closed, and Chuck shut down that part of his mind that couldn't stop thinking about his dad. Whatever preoccupations this was giving Herc, opponent's thoughts were taking over the other half of the spar too, and they began with the first few cautious taps of the staffs. Seeing them circle so slow and wary like animals, an observer might have thought they were measuring each other up… but they weren't. Chuck and Herc Hansen didn't need to do any measuring. Not of each other.

Chuck finally couldn't hold back any more and struck first, but he knew at once that Herc had seen it coming. Instead of pressing the attack, he fell back to draw Herc in. Strike and counterstrike and parry and dodge – but after ten weeks of working with Tessori and the other Fightmasters, with Flint and Amarok, Chuck had picked up a few new techniques.

He scored the first hit. "One-zero," said Tessori.

Herc's eyes darted to Chuck's face, and for the first time, it was like opponent, prospective partner, _persona non grata_ , and _Dad_ finally merged again. Chuck wasn't quite sure what the result was, but the little quirk of Herc's mouth startled him – and the tip of Herc's bō slipped past his and caught him in the shoulder.

"One-one."

_"_ _You hit me!"_ Suze Hassan liked to yelp when someone scored on her, like a slapstick comedy bumbler. Chuck's mouth quirked against his will; did Herc get that when he sparred with Team Vulcan? Probably – definitely.

Then they closed again, their staffs and their feet were flying faster than they'd sparred in months. Back when Herc had actually seemed to think it was fun, and Chuck had wanted to train more seriously, but sparring with his dad had still been a privilege –

Herc's foot shot towards his shin, and Chuck caught it just in time, but his ankle turned, and he had to roll up in a big hurry, and got a tap on the hip that he couldn't deflect.

"One-two."

Chuck was spinning before he was fully balanced and caught Herc's staff before he expected it, and flicked him in the back of the knee.

"Two-two."

It was Herc's turn to roll out of a fall and scramble to figure out where his opponent was coming from, but Chuck didn't want to give him time to regroup. Too bad he'd forgotten just how fast his old man could be – Herc twisted with one leg still tucked under himself, and his bō jabbed Chuck's wrist.

"Two-three."

A growl escaped Chuck, the fleeting moment of mutual humor gone, but Herc saw his angry advance coming, and parried Chuck hard, driving him back to give himself enough time to get his feet back under him. The bōs clack-clack-clacked and whooshed as they parried and attacked and sweat burned Chuck's eyes. Herc's eyes were focused on Chuck with a cat's intensity – but he was giving too much ground, and heading for the edge of the mat. Chuck moved in, and Herc caught himself, but too late, and his brief moment of inattention gave Chuck a chance to nail him in the ribs.

"Three-three - "

Herc's hanbō spun sharply across his hands and tangled with Chuck's, and before Chuck could rally, he was caught between his feet and falling. He managed not to land off-balance, but felt the edge of Herc's staff catch his shoulder.

"Three hits to four," Tessori announced. "Match."

And there was no sound in the Kwoon but their heavy breathing and the thudding of blood in Chuck's ears as they straightened, the whisper of their bare feet on the floor. Herc gazed at him, _something_ in his eyes that Chuck hadn't seen before… appraisal? But he broke the eye contact to bow to Tessori, and Chuck hurriedly echoed it.

Nobody said anything, not even Tessori, but Chuck wondered if he was only imagining the admonishing look that the Fightmaster shot at his old man. _Possibilities here_ , he had said to the pairs who matched up closely.

_Possibilities._

* * *

_March 17, 2020…_

Herc got to the pons test lab early and found an older Caitlin Lightcap than a few months should be able to explain. "How's the mother of dragons?"

She gave him a wan smile. "Marching with a few less than I hatched." Herc stepped cautiously closer and hugged her. Hugging wasn't exactly an instinct with him, but it seemed to be something he always found himself doing with fellow Rangers – current or former. Americans, he'd known, were more into that kind of thing, but Caitlin hadn't seemed that way five years ago. Now she leaned into it. It was a Ranger thing. "The last few months haven't been much better for you."

He smiled over her shoulder at Sergio, feeling as tired as they both looked. _You two aren't that old. You shouldn't be looking as ragged as this old soldier._ "I don't think anybody's had a good start to 2020. Here's hoping the Summer Olympics cheers us all up. You going?"

Sergio shrugged. "I guess that depends on… what everything depends on these days, huh?"

"No kidding." _Where the next attack is and who winds up dead._ He decided to stop stalling. "So. It seems my kid and me might actually have potential."

Her computer screens were already showing Herc's and Chuck's brain scans, all lined up nice and neat. The strings of numbers were gibberish to him, but even Herc could work out what those symmetrical graph lines meant: compatibility, at least in theory. Last night's closely-matched spar was another weight on the scale.

But Caitlin scowled. She looked harder now too than she ever had before. "This," she flicked the screen scornfully, "doesn't mean a damn thing if one of you doesn't want it. I know how you reacted to this after… after Manila. Stacker tried to stop it; we all did. If you don't want this, you don't have to do it! In the end, Ketteridge and Krieger can't _make_ you get into a conn-pod and drift with your own child no matter how good they think it'll make anyone look!"

Herc sighed and closed his eyes. "Sergio… you mind? Couple of minutes?"

"No worries. I'll stall the candidates if they show up," he said, and left them alone.

Herc brushed Caitlin's hand away from the screen and stared at those graphs and lines and numbers again. He took a deep breath. "Chuck wants this."

"I know he does. But he's… it's up to both of you. That's the way it always works." Caitlin put a hand on his. "Is this really just giving in to pressure? If it is, it won't work. I don't pretend to know everything about the drift, maybe nobody ever will. But I know it doesn't work that way."

His throat tightened. "I had… this idea. A couple weeks ago. A way out of it." He was a little surprised she hadn't noticed. Or maybe Stacker'd deliberately kept it from her. He probably could've gotten his hands on the test results without Caitlin knowing. Hell, as broken up as Caitlin was these days, he'd probably been right. Maybe Herc was wrong to tell her. "Me and… Raleigh Becket."

Caitlin sucked in her breath, and when he looked at her, she looked as horrified as Stacker had, as the Hassans had. "…Herc…"

_Well, if their word hadn't been enough that it was a bad idea, there's one more._ He looked away. "Don't worry, Stacker and the Hassans talked me out of it. It just goes to show – no matter how big a mess I'm in, I managed to come up with an even worse idea."

"I know putting Chuck in the Mark-5 wasn't your idea. But…" Caitlin's breath got ragged. "God. Leap Day - we've lost seven pilots in action now. Six of them from the first group, from that first year, but… I didn't know this could happen! With Raleigh left like this, for the first time I wonder if I haven't done more harm than good."

"Don't say that." Herc turned back to her and put a hand on her shoulder as she buried her face in her hands. "Yeah, what happened to Raleigh and Yancy is nightmare fuel, but we all knew we were taking a risk. This is war. Even my kid knows that."

She grabbed a handful of tissues and wiped her eyes. "I thought we were winning. Now I'm not so sure."

"Nobody's ever sure except in movies. It doesn't work that way in the real world." Herc sighed. "I can't pretend I knew Yancy that well, and …I've got no right to speak for Raleigh, as Stacker pointed out. But I think after everything they did, they wouldn't hold it against you. If there's any blame to be laid for Leap Day, it's not on you."

Granted, if there was any blame to be laid for Manila and the two Rangers who'd died there, it might well be on Herc, but she didn't need to get into that with him. She was grieving for Min and Jing too.

_Seven Rangers down in combat now, and six of them were from our first group. Min and Jing, Maria and Miguel, and Yan-Jie and Fang, we were all here back in 2015, when this place was just a couple of warehouses and an airstrip._ Outside of combat, they'd lost Kaori Jessop and Jiro Shindo as well. Herc didn't count Scott as a downed Ranger, and doubted anyone else did.

But it turned out Caitlin was thinking of Manila, if not about Min and Jing. "It isn't right trying to force you to pilot again either, you know. Even aside from the… issue of it being Chuck. Nobody's ever gone back into a conn-pod with a new partner."

"That part's my decision too," he told her. "It's all right, Cait. I'm a soldier. As long as I can fight, I'll keep fighting." He sighed. "And I'm gonna let Chuck have his chance. The timing wasn't what I'd have liked, but there's no use carrying on yelling about it. It was his choice, and it's not like the kaiju gave a shit how young he was when they came through the Breach and killed his mother."

Caitlin considered that, then slowly nodded. "I'm behind both of you, whatever _you_ want. I don't give a damn what the Secretary General or the Academy Board or the C.O.s say. Someone has to remember you're people, not pawns."

"And that's why every damn one of us will trust you to the end."

* * *

Herc's first synch test was with Danny Oliver. Chuck was actually the last on the list. Caitlin hadn't scheduled a lot of time for the first three rounds. Even without knowing the boy's history with Chuck, she had obviously worked out where these tests would end. The kid was fidgeting and as skittish as he'd been in the Kwoon, and it wasn't like Chuck was watching.

"Will you take it easy?" Herc finally said in exasperation.

"Sorry, sir," Danny mumbled. His face darkened, but finally a half-smile showed. "I really do trust you. And it'd be an honor to fight with you, but… I kinda doubt it'd feel right."

But Herc went to his chair and let the techs put him into the squid cap, and after a moment's hesitation, Danny followed suit. "We'll see how it goes, 'kay?"

Herc was old hat at the synch test semi-drift by now… but he could honestly say he'd never tested with anyone who felt quite so resistant as Greg Oliver's boy. Herc wasn't about to try to force him, but he did prod a little, hoping to strengthen what connection there was. He didn't get much… except the awareness that when Danny said it didn't "feel right," he didn't just mean uncomfortable.

The kid felt _wrong_ about trying to drift with Chuck Hansen's dad, knowing how desperate Chuck was to be a pilot, regardless of how much animosity he and the other boy'd had. Herc felt a rush of admiration for Greg's son as Caitlin dialed the pons back down. Danny Oliver had his issues, but no worse than Chuck. And he hadn't let himself give up despite coming from a far greater disadvantage at the screening tests.

As the machinery thrummed down, Caitlin gave them a rueful look. "Thirty-two percent."

Herc laughed out loud. "Okay, I think we can call this one, son." He held out a hand, and Danny sheepishly shook it.

He matched up a little better with Evelyn Nakano, a British-Japanese girl: fifty-six percent. He hit the low sixties with one of the older lads from China.

Tired, Herc saw Chuck arriving with another pair from China, and Danny with one of his other match prospects. "Hey, Cait, mind if we let a few of the others hop in ahead of us? I could use a breather."

"Sure." She scanned her list and told her assistant, "See if Xichi and Lo Hin are ready to take the plunge. Herc?" He glanced up at her, and she smiled. "Take your time."

Herc slipped out of the pons lab, startling Chuck. The kid stiffened warily as Herc jerked his head, but followed him down the hall. Outside, he found the air was finally not so biting cold, like their ears and noses weren't in danger of falling off if they stayed out for longer than a few minutes. Chuck folded his arms and looked everywhere but at Herc. "Gonna try and talk me out of it?"

He probably should have expected that. "No." Finally, Chuck looked at him. Suspicious, searching for a lie, but Herc just met his eyes steadily. "You wanted to try. Still want to?"

_Something_ flickered in the kid's eyes then, something other than the resentment and contempt that he'd so deliberately cast at his father every time they'd been forced to make eye contact since Boxing Day. But it made him look younger again, and it was all Herc could do not to flinch.

And Chuck murmured, "Yeah." Herc wondered if it was just wishful thinking on his part that maybe his kid didn't sound as repulsed by the idea of drifting with his old man as before.

He took a deep breath. _Time to move everything forward, then. There's no changing the past for him or you or anybody else._ "Everything's gotta change, then. It'll start with the semi-drift, but even today, you may sense stuff from me that you don't want to. You have to be ready for it."

Chuck's ears reddened, and he looked down for a minute. "The other Rangers say you don't... _see_ stuff in the second term tests. Flint says it's like a weird dream."

"Full sensory input dream, yeah." Herc managed not to grin as the blush spread out from the kid's nose. "We didn't have the semi-drift in 2015, but - " He started to catch himself, not wanting to tick the kid off again, then decided he might as well come out with it. No secrets for much longer. " - guess I've got more experience than most in the past three months."

To his surprise, Chuck looked more puzzled than bitter this time, and his question was candid. "Why... didn't it work? Is it really that hard with that many people? Rumor says you tested over a hundred!?

He had to chuckle. "Not quite that many. Unfamiliarity's a problem. Even here, when candidates have had weeks to get to know each other and expect to be testing, the majority can't synch. And an even smaller percentage can keep the synch in the simulator despite all the private memories they both might want to keep private and fight a kaiju at the same time." He told Chuck bluntly, "Resist outright and it's over before it starts. That's just a fact."

Chuck bit his lip and met Herc's eyes. "You... mean to say you're not gonna do that?"

"Yeah, that's what I mean. You want your chance, this is it. But it's half on you too. I don't _think_ Danny Oliver's got a problem with me in particular, but we thudded out at thirty-two percent."

Chuck laughed out loud in spite of himself, and Herc had to admit that his heart still did a back-flip hearing that sound. "Holy shit. I thought he liked you better than that." But the ramifications of it sank in after only a few seconds, and he lost his humor. "Damn it. Dad, I - I mean, sir, I want - " He looked away, then back at Herc. "I can do it. I'm not scared."

_You will be._ Herc decided against saying it _a la Yoda_. "Nobody's never scared, Candidate _._ Remember that. It does nobody any favors denying it."

* * *

As the techs hooked them into the test unit, Chuck struggled not to keep looking at his father.

Did he really want this enough? To have his dad in his head… was he really worth it?

_If I don't want it, if I resist, it's over before it starts._ That was what Herc had said, and the other trainers had said the same often enough for Chuck not to doubt it. Finally, it seemed, his dad was being straight with him.

Well, in all honesty, out of everything his dad had said and done… he hadn't exactly lied. For what that was worth.

_I can't think that way anymore, not if I want to drift with him._

Dr. Lightcap was watching them over the top of the monitors. "Are you ready?"

_Dunno. Are we?_ But he swallowed hard and nodded, and saw Herc do the same.

"Initiating test drift in five… four… three… two… one…"

Reality didn't vanish like he'd expected. Instead, Chuck was floating, spreading out from the confines of his own head, up and out and around, and the person next to him was… more than next to him.

Alongside him… floating through him… _"Jesus!"_ he – they? – croaked. He looked and he looked back and his dad/his son was next to him and looking back.

_I'm drifting with my own…_ "Herc? Chuck? Raise your right hand."

He/they did.

"Now the left. Good. Chuck, you need to let it go. You can't resist if you want it to work."

_Can't resist. If I want…_

_If he wants…_

_Dad? Do you want?_

He looked out, and Herc looked in, and he/they were in front of each other and beside each other looking through a mirror.

Their shared senses rippled, and Herc lifted his left hand… Chuck started to lift his, then stopped. He lifted the right instead.

Mirror image, there was a mirror between their minds, a two-way mirror, but it wasn't actually a barrier. A door… but not really a door. Doorway, made of thoughts and memories and sensations and feelings. Open if they wanted… only if they both wanted…

Their hands connected, his skin and his fingers – something like a mental tickle – a laugh escaped his throat, but something twisted in his chest at the sound…

Herc loved that sound. Suddenly he knew that.

_Chuck?_

_Dad?_

Then they floated down, and they were back in the testing chairs with the rigs on their faces and in their own bodies, and Dr. Lightcap had said something. Chuck blinked, dazed, and saw her looking a little befuddled too, which was weird. Surely she was used to whatever this was…

"Cait?" Herc asked, looking as baffled as Chuck felt.

"I…" She frowned at her screens, then at Chuck, then at Herc. Almost as if she wasn't sure of whether they'd be glad to hear this or not. "Eighty-three percent."

* * *

It was a very confused Caitlin who brought the test results to Stacker Pentecost's office in the Shatterdome. "I think you should see this."

Stacker looked the most surprised that she'd seen in years. "Eighty-three on the first try?"

"I had… an interesting conversation with Herc beforehand, this morning." She pondered the readings she'd taken from the pair. "I thought Herc would be a lot more resistant. But he said not anymore, and his brain scans indicate he means it. In the test drift, they matched up. Chuck had a harder time than he did, but I think it was inexperience. They're practically estranged, but somehow, they may be compatible."

Stacker couldn't read the brain chemistry indicators as well as she could, but he'd gained some experience with it since those first days building the prototype - and using himself as occasional guinea pig. He recognized the signs, not just of willingness, but something more than that driving the two subjects. "Herc's relationship with his son is complicated. I admit, after Boxing Day, I thought the chances of them being able to drift were slim. Apparently it's even more complicated than we thought. What has the Psych team said?"

Caitlin snorted. "The usual. They're hung up on stability and the degree of pathology that Herc might have picked up from Scott, and whether Chuck's brain is sufficiently mature to match his. Pilots are subjects to them."

Stacker was unsurprised by her opinion. Her frustration with the shortcomings of the Psych Analyst teams was no secret. So much of drifting was governed by thoughts and feelings, not just the stress caused by the memories and emotions there but how each pilot reacted to them. It drove Caitlin around the bend that so few of the analysts seemed to understand that at a fundamental level.

"I'm worried about Chuck Hansen," Stacker surprised her by admitting. "Just not for the same reasons as the Psych team. He's a gifted candidate, but they're not wrong about his trauma history or the stress caused by his relationship with Herc. I had an idea, but... thought that it would be more prudent to wait and see how initial testing went."

Caitlin smirked. Stacks had loosened up a great deal about bending the rules in the past few years, and if there was one thing he was good at, it was planning ahead. "I don't suppose it involves packing the review board?"

"That would solve many problems, but sadly, no." He said that with a completely-straight face. "But if they pass the second cut and begin combat simulations, they will have a full Psych team assigned to them. In the past few years, I've been in contact with a number of psychologists who have experience with young survivors of kaiju attacks and the family stresses that come with it. I thought perhaps we can recruit one or more of them for the Hansens' team, someone we know who can offer not just credentials, but also sympathy."

"Then your goal will be to help Herc and Chuck succeed?"

Stacker nodded. "If that's what both of them want, and if they can meet the objective requirements, then yes."

* * *

Herc and Chuck tested six more times in the next ten days. For the most part, their synch score kept going up.

Twice, their scores went down. The first time was just funny: Herc got a flash of body memory that he knew wasn't his own, and – _wait, what?!_

_Panic_. Suddenly, their consciousness was in a mental tug-of-war.

"Whoa, whoa, Chuck, don't do that!" exclaimed Caitlin. "You're losing synch… okay." She shot them a wry smile as the test rigs powered down. "That was seventy percent."

One look at his son's scarlet face, and Herc put together what had happened – and just barely managed not to guffaw. "Let's take a break. _Relax_ ," he ordered, catching the kid's shoulder to stop him from bolting as they left the test lab. Chuck wouldn't look at him. "You knew this was part of the territory." Chuck nodded, too flustered to even speak.

Herc walked them down to an empty supply room (which Caitlin had tipped him off didn't have security cameras inside.) "Look…" _Shit, how was this conversation supposed to go?_ He'd had something like a plan what he'd say to his kid in this situation, but had never gambled on finding out in the drift. "There's only one thing that matters to me or anybody else in the Corps: you both legal?" Chuck nodded. "You both consented?" Another nod. "Okay, then. No problem."

His mortified son finally met his eyes – for about half a second. Then he looked down again, cringing. "It really… doesn't make a difference that…"

"For Chrissakes, Chuck, I'm not that out of touch! You're a teenager!" Did he seriously think Herc was going to gnash his teeth over lost virginity at age sixteen?! "I expected it, and as long as you're both legal and consent, I don't bloody care!"

The kid hemmed and hawed, now looking a little confused. Herc was baffled, until he thought back (with some reluctance) about what he'd sensed, unsure of why his son would still doubt that his dad wouldn't care about a little sex. He recalled what their double-vision had seen just before the memory hit: Danny Oliver and his partner entering the test lab for their turn.

_Oh…OH!_ Now Herc felt himself going beet red. "Hell… I get it. I… uh…" That thought had occurred to him now and then over the years as Chuck was growing up. Scott had worried when the kid hadn't seemed sufficiently interested in girls. _As if being interested in boys would be a character flaw when treating girls like shit wasn't._ He rallied himself in a hurry. "Still doesn't matter. Not to me or anyone else whose opinion's worth anything."

Had Scott ever made remarks about sexuality in Chuck's hearing? Damn, probably. Just another thing Herc had dismissed as Scott being Scott without any real regard for who might be hurt. No wonder Chuck was afraid of how he'd react.

"I… it was just a… uh…"

"You don't need to explain anything," he told the boy gruffly. "It's your business. Stuff will come out in the drift, yeah, we both know it, but I'm not gonna go looking." Now it was his turn to avoid his son's gaze as he admitted sheepishly, "But yeah, when it comes to drifting, you know if we keep on, sooner or later you'll see…"

The strangled noise confirmed that Chuck got what he was talking about, but when Herc dared to look, the kid was starting to grin again, though his face was still beet red.

* * *

Their synch percentage was back up to eighty-eight after that… but it dropped again when it was Chuck's turn to get a whisper of sensation from his partner. The test drift for second term synch trials didn't unleash the full three-dimensional memory visions that a full drift did, but some of what came through was clear enough.

So to Herc's embarrassment, the first time his own traitorous brain recalled the last time he'd felt anything like desire… Chuck knew he wasn't thinking about Angela.

This time, Chuck was the one who more or less yanked him out of the lab into the store room, practically snarling. "You fucked Devi Hassan?!"

Herc's initial discomfort was obliterated by the more pressing issue, and now he was in his son's face. "Watch… your… bloody… language. You can talk to me any damn way you want, but you do _not_ speak about her or anyone else that way."

"Yeah, old man, you're _real_ worried about my manners when you're the one getting in the pants of a girl half your age - "

Herc _almost_ belted him right there. He settled for shoving the kid's arm off him and pushing him towards the wall. "So does that mean you're up for questions about your boyfriend?" he hissed.

"He's _not_ my - "

"Open season, you little hypocrite! What's it gonna be? I spill all, you spill all?" Chuck wrenched away, snarling. "And not that it's any of your business, but I've never bloody touched her."

"You _want_ her!"

"You're such a damn brat. You hear yourself? You say you get how this works, now throw a tantrum over who your father's allowed to look at." It finally seemed to reach him, and the kid glared at the floor now, breathing hard. Herc forced himself to let Chuck go and back off. "What's that really about? You got a crush on her? Swing both ways, then?"

Chuck went scarlet. "No," he mumbled.

A smirk crossed Herc's face in spite of himself. "No to which?"

Chuck's chin went up as he drawled out sarcastically, "No, I haven't got a crush on Devi." The challenging little toss of his head answered the second question… and Herc's smugness started to give way to humor again. His kid's lips were starting to twitch too. Shrugging, Chuck looked away again. "Just… look, it threw me, okay? It seems weird, two Rangers from different crews."

Herc snorted. "Actually, it happens all the time." Chuck's startled expression was a reminder of just how young and _not_ worldly the kid still was. It gave Herc a renewed stab of dismay to consider that. "Well, it does," he said, trying to be matter-of-fact about it. "Not a lot of people in the world can get our lives, what it means to drift, to pilot a Jaeger and fight kaiju."

"Isn't that what Jaeger Flies are for?" his son said slyly.

That reminded Herc of Ketteridge – or worse. "I told you to watch your mouth about women." The kid rolled his eyes and started to retort… then stopped, his eyes locked on Herc's, and Herc knew Chuck was picking up on what he meant, and why it bothered him: _Never talk about them the way Scott did._ Chuck looked away and nodded. "I told you before: if you're both legal and consent, do what you like, with Jaeger Flies or closer to home if someone's up for it." _Do NOT think about who it might be, Herc, you really do not want to do that!_ "But they're people, all of them. Do _not_ start treating people like shit whether you do or don't get laid often enough. Don't you fucking dare."

Chuck swallowed convulsively, still looking away from him. Yeah, he knew what his dad was on about now. "I won't," he mumbled.

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
> _Coming Soon:_  
>  **  
>  _Yancy Becket's funeral. Raleigh's future and his life hang in the balance. A conspiracy forms with Stacker Pentecost at the center, forced to weigh his duty to humanity's defense against the welfare of one, and a promise he once made to Yancy in_  
>  **  
> _Chapter Twenty: The Choices You Die With!_  
>  **
> 
>  
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
>  
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
>  
> 
> Fightmaster Anjin Tessori - one of the senior martial arts/Jaeger Bushido instructors at the Jaeger Academy. Japanese national, age mid-60s.
> 
> Daniel (Danny) Oliver: Age 17, son of support chopper pilot Greg Oliver, survived Scissure along with his little sister, Emma. He began applying to the Jaeger Program two years before, and has finally been admitted to Class 2020-A along with Chuck. The two boys clashed frequently in the Shatterdome, but amid the stresses of drift testing, they've found, er, some common ground (nudge wink).
> 
> Greg Oliver: Herc's comrade and fellow chopper pilot from before K-Day, now a support pilot for Lucky Seven. Like Herc, he joined the Jaeger Program in the wake of Scissure. He lost his parents and his oldest daughter, Karina, in the attack.
> 
> Evelyn (Evie) Nakano: Age 18, British-Japanese, another candidate of Class 2020-A. Despite disliking Chuck, she tested as potentially compatible with both him and Herc.
> 
> Marshal Blake Ketteridge: Commanding Officer of Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force. Intensely nationalistic, he considered the Hansens his poster boys and intended them to be pilots of the Mark-5 Jaeger. After Scott was drummed out of the Corps, Ketteridge assisted Chuck in applying to the Jaeger Academy over Herc's protests, essentially blackmailing Herc into giving permission.


	20. The Choices You Die With

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yancy Becket's funeral. Raleigh's future and his life hang in the balance. A conspiracy forms with Stacker Pentecost at the center, forced to weigh his duty to humanity's defense against the welfare of one, and a promise he once made to Yancy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** _ _I'm traveling this weekend, so wouldn't have a chance to update... but because I have the awesomest readers in the world who've given me such incredible feedback, and ended up with a little free time this evening, here it is, the chapter that answers many of the questions that have been building up since Conflict of Interest! Enjoy!_
> 
> _**Additional Note:** _ _Understand that Raleigh is_ _ not _ _a reliable narrator in the sections that are his POV, and his mindset at this point is very different from what we saw in the movie. This is Raleigh in the immediate aftermath of Yancy's death, without five years and four months to adjust. Most of the original characters that you see in this chapter were introduced in Aurora Borealis, where Raleigh and Yancy attended the Jaeger Academy. Raleigh's farewell to Tendo can be seen from Tendo's POV in Chapter 5 of Conflict of Interest._

**Chapter Twenty: The Choices You Die With**

_March 31, 2020…  
Anchorage Shatterdome…_

Was Yancy Becket's funeral the beginning of the end? Or would the end that followed have come about no matter what?

Stacker would ask himself those questions for the rest of his life.

Krieger and the UN representatives insisted that they simply didn't have the support to fund any more Mark-5's… but with Raleigh Becket to serve as the public rallying point in the Pacific nations, perhaps that would change.

The funds were committed to refit and re-launch Tacit Ronin, Silver Lion, Diablo Intercept, and even Horizon Brave. Jasper Schoenfeld thought that maybe, just maybe, the Engineers could even restore Gipsy Danger, but that would have to wait for still more funding.

And that would draw still more attention to the one place Stacker was desperate to keep it from falling: on Raleigh Becket.

_Do I let them have him and call it "the greater good?" Do I stand by him and possibly condemn everyone I'm trying to protect? Where do we draw the line? How much is too much to ask of any one man, any one Ranger?_

As it was, Stacker and Tokyo's Admiral Yamamoto had had to do a bit of wheeling and dealing just to get the four re-launches funded. K-Science and the clean-up teams struggled to get the samples they needed from kaiju early enough after a kill for the carcasses to be useful… so the three Asian commanding officers, Liang, Yamamoto, and Okita, had quietly directed them to one of the black marketeers who worked out of Hong Kong. They'd struck a deal with the man for some kaiju parts and even some preservation techniques, in exchange for a blind eye to _some_ of his operations and a fat, filthy bribe.

Hannibal Chau, as he called himself, boasted that he could fund the Hong Kong Dome and all five of China's Jaegers if the PPDC gave him exclusive rights to a kill site. "Well, if all else fails," Marshal Gagnon mused. What laughter followed was dark and bitter indeed.

It felt like a conspiracy when Stacker gathered with Vincent Gagnon, Duc Jessop, and the D'onofrios in an equipment shed off the grounds preparing for Yancy's funeral to discuss where they stood.

Duc didn't look very well, but brushed off questions about his own health. "More important: how is Raleigh? Is he up to this?"

Caitlin looked away, and it was Sergio who answered. "I doubt he ever will be. He's physically healing, at least. We might as well get it over with before Krieger knows he's been released from medical and turns the whole thing into a production."

Caitlin looked like hell too. "Team Gipsy thinks the same. Just getting it done now while we have the power to keep the press and public out is the best plan."

"You've seen him?" She nodded. "How is he?"

Her eyes brimmed. "Healthy enough now, I guess. He doesn't want me to scan his brain or try to figure out how he… made it back alone. I've respected that." She shot Stacker a meaningful look.

He had _almost_ overruled Raleigh and ordered the medics to conduct the full scans whether the Ranger liked it or not, for the sake of knowing how badly his brain had been damaged, and how – or if – they could prevent it in the future. But Caitlin had railed at him, backed at various volume levels by Gipsy's crew. "Is _nobody_ going to give him any autonomy? For Christ's sake, we've dragged him out of the wreckage, restrained him, and drugged him, where does it end?! He's not an experiment, God damn it!"

Stacker had yielded then, and he nodded to her, silently doing so again. It was time to draw the line. "After today, we are running out of barriers to put between him and the UN's publicity plans."

"You have some ideas?" asked Duc.

Gagnon nodded. "We have to get him off the grid. That's the _only_ way Krieger will be stopped." He smiled grimly. "I thought we should also offer that chance to you. Enough is enough. I have a ski lodge out in Whistler. Quite remote; it's snowed in almost every winter. We haven't been back since my sons were young, but since I'm facing retirement for my health, my wife and I will go back. The publicists wouldn't expect you or Raleigh to be there."

"That's very kind of you, Marshal," Duc murmured, and it was as if he let down a barrier then, and they could all see just how weary he was. "I… might just take you up on it."

"Please. Every one of us owes you that and more." To Caitlin, Gagnon asked, "Have you talked to Raleigh about what he wants to do now?"

She sighed. "I've tried. He… doesn't say much. Sometimes I'm not sure he understands me. Other times, it's like he wants to answer but can't. Steve Tán thinks it's psychosomatic, not physical damage. The tests we did run back it up. There was definitely brain damage, but his cognitive functions aren't impaired."

"Physical or mental. Six of one, half-dozen of the other," said Duc quietly, with an air of someone speaking from experience.

"Carolina Olivares has also suggested taking him to her family in Colorado," said Stacker. "It's not as secure, but at least he'd be with someone he knows and trusts, though I'd be sorry to lose her as a liaison. God knows, our Rangers need sympathetic representatives more than ever."

"Carolina's given more than her share as well," said Sergio. "She's still close to the twins, but Raleigh and Yancy were her boys. Especially Yancy. Bruce and Trevin are worried about her."

"I know. They've told me, and I agree with you. On the other hand, she's also more exposed to political retaliation."

Caitlin scowled. "It'll come to that?"

_If you'd seen how they and Blake Ketteridge handled Herc Hansen, you wouldn't even bother to ask._ Since then, and since learning of the UN's propaganda plan for Raleigh, Stacker had wondered just what form of bullying they'd employed against Duc Jessop and Hayase Shindo. Carolina Olivares had a daughter and son-in-law in the PPDC, and three young grandchildren. The PPDC weren't above using a Ranger's loved ones as bargaining chips; their treatment of Herc was proof of that. Threats against Mrs. Olivares, her family, or any of Raleigh's crew would be all too easy a way for the unscrupulous to secure his cooperation. "Suffice it to say, the further off the grid Duc and Raleigh Becket are, the better I will feel."

"Jesus. No more of this, Stacker. I don't care if they're dangling ten Mark-5's in front of our noses. Enough. Jasper and I built the Jaegers to stop the kaiju, not to turn people into slave gladiators."

Gagnon and Sergio were nodding. "I also don't believe they're going to give us any more Mark-5's, no matter what they're claiming as an excuse to get Raleigh on tour," said Gagnon. "They're committing more resources to that idiotic wall, and some powerful pundits are making a lot of noise about Striker Eureka being a waste of money. Until he launches _and_ has major results, they won't green light another Mark-5."

"Then what the hell do they want this tour to accomplish?!" Caitlin demanded.

Duc sighed. "You should've asked me, love. I could've told you. All this propaganda was never about the Jaeger Program's mission, never about protecting the people. It's about politics. _They_ are what Raleigh's meant to promote." He looked at Stacker, resolute. "And I'm with you. It's not as if they can do anything to me now, there's not enough time left. Will it help for me to talk to him?"

"Maybe," Caitlin mused.

"All right," said Stacker. _And over the Rubicon we go._ But it was a relief, to feel that they'd chosen their course, and no one, least of all Raleigh and Duc, was without defenders. "Then after today, we need to move fast. Very fast."

* * *

At Yancy's funeral, however, it was damn hard to imagine any sort of good future for anyone. The misery that permeated the atmosphere on Kodiak Island was worse than anything Stacker had experienced since the aftermath of K-Day.

_We knew we would lose Rangers in action. We were prepared for that. But in pairs, always in pairs. Not like this._

Raleigh Becket was no longer medicated, but he was so unresponsive that he might as well have been. And Stacker wondered if that wasn't just as well.

Fortunately, with the press and the public barred from the whole base, the Corps personnel were the only witnesses, and they understood. Even Raleigh's classmates, Stephanie Lanphier and Kennedy LaRue, heartbroken as they were, didn't press him or take offense when he hardly reacted to their words and embraces. They circulated among Team Gipsy, comforting the others until the mercifully-brief ceremony ended. Nagasaki's Colonel Okita had given leave to Vic and Gunnar Tunari, but like Team Hydra, they would have to leave immediately afterward to return to base.

For a minute, it looked as if Raleigh was glad to see them, but then he flinched as if in physical pain, and the brothers kept their distance, anxious and soul-sick and visibly trying not to just cling to each other.

Herc Hansen was with the four pairs of active Rangers: the Tunaris, Hydra Corinthian's pilots, and the pilots of Chrome Brutus and Cascade Victor. Stacker watched him, but although he looked at Raleigh with intense eyes, he didn't approach.

Standing among the rest of the Academy cadets, Chuck Hansen watched the events with an expression very like his father's.

There were a dozen teams in the running as Class 2020-A's second term came to a close. Not all of them would make the second cut, but for those who did... Stacker would have wagered that every one of them was thinking the same thing as they looked at Ranger Raleigh Becket in the front of the mourners, alone:

_Is this how it will end? Is it worth carrying on if it's going to end this way? Which of us will be next, dead or alone?_

Dying in combat was a possibility they'd all known and accepted with the first screening application. But this, torn away from their partner mid-battle and left _alive_ … even their commanding officers, even the veteran Rangers hadn't seen it coming.

_I was their commanding officer. I sent them into the storm alone. I was complacent; I should have known not to assume any team was too skilled to be vulnerable, let alone that those two would abandon even one civilian in harm's way._

Within a few hours of the funeral's end, Stephanie Lanphier and Kennedy LaRue were under orders to be on a plane back to Panama City, and Vic and Gunnar Tunari for Nagasaki. Stacker silently watched the milling personnel and noted the presence of crew clad in uniforms from all over the Pacific. With Team Hydra had come a pair of strike troopers from Rio Sentry's crew: Brian Patrick and Janet McDonald, the Irish cousins who had passed the second cut but failed the third in the Beckets' class. Marshal Ramirez had reluctantly refused to give Yankee Star or Romeo Blue's pilots leave, considering how severely under-manned the US coast now was. But several of their support crew had been permitted to come as their _de facto_ representatives, people who Stacker recalled seeing horsing around with the Beckets when they'd been stationed together.

He'd been so aggravated over the constant indiscipline and mischief in those days, fumed when he saw the reports, wanting the cut-ups to bloody grow up… _Be careful what you wish for_ , Luna would have said.

There was even a pair of J-Techs wearing Crimson Typhoon's insignia: Bao Wang and Shan Thou. Some of the Class 2016-B candidates hadn't seen each other since before the Team Gipsy, Team Hydra, and Team Vulcan graduated. And as a result, it only hit Team Gipsy that much harder that it was over now.

Many went straight back to work around the Shatterdome afterwards, seeking any means of keeping busy. Stacker saw a group of them packing up equipment and paraphernalia near the drive suit room. "Someone gonna take these?" one of the chopper pilots was asking, holding some mementos that Stacker knew had belonged to the crew who'd died before in action. Nearly every Jaeger in service had a similar shrine in their utility bays by now.

"I thought we could ask Carolina," said Tendo Choi, holding a fisherman's cap in his hands. He shut his eyes, and one of the women put an arm around his waist, her own cheeks wet. "Thank God Antwan didn't live to see this."

One of the drivesuit techs turned away and muttered roughly, "I was thinking the same thing, man. First time I ever thought that."

"What do we do now?" someone asked.

"The options are open," said Hien Nguyen, Whiskey Alpha's personnel coordinator. Her eyes were puffy, but like most of the military transplants, she was holding it together in front of the others. "Request reassignment – transfer, even, if you don't want to stay in Anchorage. I thought maybe I'd put in to cross the lake, for Australia or Hong Kong. Horizon Brave and Silver Lion are being refitted; they'll need crew."

One of the former civilians, Cady Spencer, admitted, "I dunno if I can handle it anymore. I know that's fucking cowardly, but… shit. I just don't know." He abruptly left, and several of the others went with him.

Stacker went in the opposite direction, unable to bear their grief any longer.

The medics insisted that Raleigh spend the night in the infirmary, more out of fear for his mental than physical health. "I don't _think_ he's suicidal," Dr. Tán murmured to Stacker and Gagnon. "But we can't assume anything. He's coherent, but this is a dangerous time."

_In more ways than you can possibly imagine._ Caitlin and Carolina Olivares at first thought to give Raleigh a chance to unwind from the funeral, but then bitterly admitted it wouldn't make a difference. So they brought Duc to see him.

"He… seemed to focus for a few minutes," Caitlin reported to Stacker and Gagnon. "Like with Vic and Gunnar. But then it was the same, it's like he faded."

"Did he respond at all?" Stacker asked, frustrated and anxious. He already had to answer what was undoubtedly going to be an irate message from Secretary General Krieger, wanting to know why he hadn't been informed about the timing of the funeral or the decision to bar the media. The American brass were furious, denied the opportunity to make a grand, televised affair of it, a heart-wrenching media sensation out of a grief-stricken twenty-one-year-old.

"He was listening," Duc confirmed. Facing Raleigh had stirred up his own demons, and he looked still worse. _One way or another, I'm getting_ you _out of here,_ Stacker vowed silently. "But he said no, to me and to Carolina. He wants out of the Corps completely. Even from his friends."

"Damn," muttered Gagnon. "Did you tell him about Whistler?" They nodded. "What now? Kidnap him?"

"It may come to that if we want to stop the vultures. If he just walks out the gate, they'll follow him," Sergio warned. He scrubbed his face with his free hand, keeping an arm around Caitlin. "We need to warn him. Maybe it'll change his mind."

"Or push him over the edge," said Duc. Caitlin flinched.

Yancy's voice echoed in Stacker's mind: _"You better do right by him. I can't protect him, you said. You're the Marshal, so you better!_ "

* * *

So, the following morning, Stacker met with Raleigh. "Have you given any thought to what you want to do now?"

Dull, empty eyes barely focused on him. A few years ago when Raleigh was wounded in the aftermath of Yamarashi, Stacker had thought that Yancy's pain was hard to face, but this… why had he never thought it was possible? There was a long silence before Raleigh answered. "I need to go. I can't stay here."

"But what will you _do_?" Stacker pressed.

"Does it matter?"

Did he dare hope that was a flicker of the boy's old sarcasm? Probably not. "I'm still responsible for your safety, Ranger - "

" – I'm not a Ranger." Finally, Raleigh was looking at him. "It's over. You don't need me here. Why are we even talking?"

"Because your crew and your _friends_ are concerned for you, and yes, I am as well." He fought to keep his patience. "You've refused survivor's benefits and all the suggestions that Mrs. Olivares and Duc Jessop have made. I can't ignore a possible threat to your safety." Raleigh frowned, seeming genuinely puzzled, and Stacker sighed. He might as well come out with it. Trying to be delicate would probably be a waste on someone in this state. "Do you intend to harm yourself?"

He watched closely for Raleigh's reaction. Confusion, but… not evasion. Not determination. _Thank God._ He didn't want to think Raleigh Becket was that good an actor, at least not at a moment like this.

Dropping his eyes again, Raleigh shook his head. "I won't." There wasn't as much conviction in his voice as Stacker would have hoped for, but at least he seemed to be telling the truth. "Sir, I just… need to do something else. Away from here. I can't stay here."

"Then why not go with - "

" – I _can't!_ " Raleigh hissed through clenched teeth, more like from pain than anger. "Don't you get it? They think they owe it to him, but it's not like that now, I can't – be around them now, not after…"

"You are not to blame for what happened." Stacker meant it, but he knew even as he said it that he might as well be talking to a wall. Raleigh didn't believe him, nor did he believe the rest of what his superior tried to persuade him: "It's _you_ that your friends and I are concerned for, for your own sake. Your crew doesn't want to lose you too."

That was cruel, and he cursed himself for making the boy flinch, but Raleigh was digging in deeper. "You should've kicked me out," he muttered. "I disobeyed orders. You said it. I disobeyed, and he's…"

Stacker winced inwardly as the young Ranger's eyes lost focus again. How far gone was he to think that was even an option? What kind of man did he think his commanding officer was? Fighting to rally and turn the conversation back to something like the future, Stacker insisted, "This isn't about blame or fault or even responsibility. It's about the safety of an officer, and even if I did think punishing you alone was appropriate – which I do not – your safety would still matter."

Raleigh wasn't looking at him again. _Damn it, do you even hear me?_

_Stupid question, Stacks._ That was Tamsin in the back of his mind, reminding him of those first gray days, weeks, and months after Luna was gone. They'd looked very similar in his memories and Tamsin's in the drift, to the point where sometimes he couldn't tell whose recollection it was. A world gray with ash and muffled sound and no real awareness of anything or anyone. No past, no future, just a cold, empty present. Alone. So completely alone. They had both been sleepwalking until they reached each other after Trespasser, and light had flared back through the haze with thoughts of war and revenge.

Stacker wrenched his thoughts back to the here and now. Could that work for Raleigh? Maybe it was worth a try. "There will be more attacks, Ranger. You killed Knifehead, but more will follow." To his relief, _something_ glittered in the boy's eyes at that. "This war isn't over."

Stacker had warned Herc against focusing too much on vengeance in a conn-pod. He feared what it would mean for Mako, for young Chuck Hansen, and the other teams if that emotion ruled them in the drift.

Was it right to stoke that for Raleigh, even for the sake of finding him a reason to live? _If it comes down to a choice between that and speaking Yancy's name, I wonder which option will land me a deeper place in hell._

He knew it would come to that when Raleigh's eyes dulled again, and the boy murmured, "I'm no good to you now. Or the war, not without…" He shook his head. "You might as well just get rid of me. I'm dead weight."

"That's _not_ true." In desperation, Stacker said slowly, "Raleigh… there's a reason Duc Jessop came to you with his offer. The UN… proposed that you should stand as a representative of the Jaeger Program now… as Duc did."

Well, that reached him, but not in the way Stacker hoped. Resolve returned to Raleigh's face, but the hard, bitter distance in his gaze was a deadly warning even without what he said next: "I'd rather die."

It wasn't just a statement of feeling. It was a promise. _Oh, God, shit, no…_

"I want out. You asked what I want, that's it. Nobody watching me like a freak." Raleigh let out a soft, bitter huff of air and muttered, "I don't even know why they'd want that. But I won't do it." He looked listlessly into the distance. "He's, Duc, he's… nice… to try and help, but… I can't go with him. I can't. Why can't I just go?"

_If you go, they'll pursue you._ God, Stacker didn't dare tell him that. They were dancing on the cliff's edge as it was. Raleigh was teetering so close, and one push in any direction might finish him. He deserved his freedom, the Hassans had said. _How do I give you your freedom now? They were right, but how do I protect you without trapping you? How do I make you understand that I'm trying to help you?_

Luna used to snarl when her brother had said things like that. _"I didn't bloody_ ask _for your help!"_

_Not you, no, but Yancy did. I promised, and if it had been the reverse, Raleigh would have demanded no less for his brother._ Would pointing that out finish him or drag him back from the brink?

_"_ _It's like he faded,"_ Caitlin said of her efforts to reach him. It was an apt description for the distance that kept returning between Stacker and the Ranger sitting on the other side of his desk. Each time Stacker thought Raleigh could hear and comprehend, he drifted away again.

_I know where you've gone_ , he thought, studying the young man's haunted gaze. _Maybe it wasn't just Tamsin and me. Maybe that's the place we all go when we lose someone who was part of us._ There were so few paths out of that dead, ashen world, and even fewer without danger.

_"_ _You better do right by him. I can't protect him, so you better!_ "

"Raleigh… if… Yancy were here instead of you, what would you have me say to him?" Raleigh stiffened, then shivered even as his eyes focused again – with an agony Stacker knew all too well. _I'm sorry. I'd do anything in my power not to cause you any more pain._

But after a moment, Raleigh did answer. "He'd want… I'd want…" He shut his eyes. "He always knew what to do."

"You're wrong." Raleigh's eyes opened at the certainty in Stacker's tone. "I know that because he asked me – or rather, demanded that I protect you if he couldn't."

"When?" Raleigh breathed.

"After Clawhook." Stacker held his breath and waited for Raleigh to digest that.

To his despair, Raleigh looked away again. "It's my fault," he murmured stubbornly. "It doesn't matter what happens now."

"It _does._ " Stacker all but growled at him. "I _will not_ leave you for dead, _Ranger_ , and if you are looking for a chance to take your own life, I will have no choice but to stop you."

"Okay, I swear I won't!" Raleigh snapped, in the closest thing to open anger Stacker had seen from him yet. Was that a good sign? _Will it come down to haggling with you?_

Then Luna's voice whispered in the back of his mind. _Always works better than threats and hard-lining, doesn't it?_

So many times, he'd had to maneuver and negotiate with his sister to talk her out of some mad jaunt or another, resorting to bribes and bargains as he recognized they worked better than demands and threats once she was grown. But what did he have to bargain with where Raleigh was concerned? What did Raleigh even want now?

_Apart from my agreeing with his notion that he alone is to blame for his brother's death and to condemn and abandon him to the wilderness, but it's not possible to offer him that and protect him from the UN at the same time._

Once Krieger and the UN made their move, Stacker feared their pressure would drive Raleigh straight over the edge. There was no reason to think they wouldn't resort to threats and pressure against Gipsy's crew, and they wouldn't back down until they had what they wanted – or until Raleigh ended the pursuit permanently.

_"_ _Don't let them use him like that. You said I can't protect him, you said!_ "

Would Stacker spend the rest of his life with Yancy's voice in his head now too?

_Why shouldn't you? You're the one who thought you knew best, told him what to do, and turned him and his brother into soldiers._ Luna would have scoffed at him. She was always quickest to call him out for hypocrisy. She'd never called out the ultimate one, that Stacker Pentecost looking for law and order and respect for authority was laughable. Even during their loudest quarrels, Luna had never been willing to sink so low, because she knew it weighed on her brother. It had been in the back of Stacker's mind since he was twelve.

He had been in command, and he'd failed them. They were still his responsibility. He had made a promise. But it wasn't possible to give Raleigh what he wanted and protect him from the UN at the same time…

…or was it?

Stacker's eyes darted to the screen with the reports on Raleigh's fitness for release. He had fully expected to be updating it with a report of Ranger Raleigh Becket's departure from the PPDC in the next day… but he'd planned on another "reason for departure": resigned or medically discharged.

But if Raleigh refused to let Duc Jessop or Carolina Olivares take him off the grid, his resignation wouldn't hinder Krieger and the propaganda machine from following him.

There was a third option: dismissal.

_"_ _You should kick me out for disobeying orders."_

_As if I'd be that damned callous._ What a scandal that would cause the minute word got out. Stacker would be hunted down by a mob of Rangers and crews – rightly so – to say nothing of the public. _Talk about something that Krieger and the UN would be desperate_ not _to reach public ears._

Was he seriously considering such a thing? Surely that would cause more problems than it solved.

And yet… if the spin doctors feared that public scrutiny of Raleigh Becket would paint them in a bad light, they would decide discretion was the better option. Stacker and Vincent Gagnon were counting on that for Duc Jessop. The UN and PPDC superiors still didn't want public attention on his cancer – or its possible causes – so when he went off the grid, they wouldn't dare raise too great a hue and cry.

What if the cause of Raleigh's departure from the Corps had the potential to be embarrassing?

Call them out, Herc had urged. Maybe that was the way. Invite a media exposé and blow the whistle to the public. Surely that would be less cruel than catering to Raleigh's self-recrimination and guilt.

But that would only draw greater media attention towards Raleigh, and if he wasn't hidden or otherwise protected, he might not be capable of protecting himself. Stacker couldn't even be sure Gipsy's crew wouldn't simply chase after him in desperation to try to change his mind when he resigned.

_But what if they thought it wasn't up to him?_

Wouldn't a medical discharge serve that purpose? For the crew, yes, but not Krieger. Duc Jessop and Hayase Shindo were living proof of that.

But the word "insubordination" on Raleigh's record would be a black mark he didn't deserve.

_As if Raleigh cares about that now… I can't bloody believe I'm considering this._

If Raleigh were discharged for insubordination, Krieger's head might explode. Would it stop him? If… trying to reverse it had the potential to create a scandal… yes, knowing Krieger and his ilk, that was the one motive they would faithfully follow beyond all else. Raleigh's welfare wouldn't move them any more than Duc's or Hayase's. They called it "the greater good" and "defense of humanity" and slept well every night.

Were they wrong? Or was Stacker too consumed with the needs of the one now and abandoning his mission? He knew what Caitlin would say: Enough. Draw the line. The "greater good" of humanity shouldn't be won by wringing every last fiber out of the men and women who'd given the most to save them.

The PPDC's internal records were one thing. If all the public record showed was "discharged…" that would appear no different from Duc's, Hayase's, even Tamsin's. People would assume it was a medical discharge, an honorable, amiable separation. They would shed their tears for Yancy, sigh for Raleigh's wounds and his loss, but before long, they'd move on to other media darlings.

And if it came down to a choice between letting that assumption stand and letting it be known the twenty-one-year-old pilot who'd already lost his brother had been dismissed for an act that had saved ten lives… Krieger would keep silent. He would call off his dogs.

To do this wouldn't just mean a black mark on Raleigh. It would mean blackmail of Stacker's superiors and the United Nations, thinly-veiled, but unmistakable. They were transparent in their motives to Stacker, but they weren't fools. They would work out his intentions, and take it – with some justification – as a declaration of hostilities.

It might endanger the Jaeger Program. It would certainly mean the end of Stacker Pentecost's career.

_Well, that last part matters… not at all. To hell with it. Of all the worries in my mind right now, that shouldn't even play into it._

And as long as Stacker lived, the UN couldn't stop him from fighting for the Rangers' interests. For the ones who'd given their lives and the ones who were still fighting. _"Jasper and I didn't build the Jaegers to turn people into slave gladiators._ " Not long ago, Caitlin's attitude towards the world and morality had frustrated him… maybe Stacker had always been the one with the problem.

But could any morality justify indulging Raleigh's self-destructiveness? Or would this be the means to winning his freedom?

_His crew and his comrades would never forgive me._ But… the blame and recriminations for the younger Becket's departure from the Corps would fall on Stacker – _not_ Raleigh. Maybe there was some part of this burden that he could shoulder for Yancy's brother.

He'd been silent for too long. Raleigh finally spoke up. "What happens if I leave? You have me shot for desertion?"

"Of course not. You can resign from the Corps. But it will be hard for your crew and everyone else who cares for you to accept that you no longer want anything to do with them," Stacker pointed out. There again, he saw the skepticism in Raleigh's eyes as he looked away. Raleigh was too off-balance, too immersed in his own grief to see what anyone else might feel.

And Stacker found himself praying the boy wouldn't suggest it again, because the path out was becoming too clear to deny, but it was so damned horrific.

But he did. "Wouldn't have to resign if you'd just fire me," Raleigh muttered. "Like you should for what I did."

_God have mercy on my soul._ "Suppose I agree to do that?" Raleigh blinked and met his gaze. Stacker willed himself to stay steady. "That's not to say I in any way agree with what you think. But suppose I did as you suggest. What would you do then?"

Raleigh had to think about it for a minute. But for the first time, it was obvious he _was_ actually thinking about what he would do. "Find a job. Work. Keep busy, somewhere else. The press'd forget about me eventually."

It seemed their thoughts were finally moving in the same direction... if only Stacker could manage to keep control and steer it to the right conclusion. Or at least to the conclusion that would leave Raleigh exploited or dead by his own hand. "If I let it be known publicly that you were discharged for disobeying orders, the media would be relentless," Stacker pointed out. Raleigh flinched… and carefully, Stacker laid out the condition. "But if the reason for your discharge wasn't made public, they would probably assume it was medical. And our superiors would prefer that such an assumption stand."

"So everybody wins."

_Now that's my Rals._ For the first time, the memory of Yancy's voice in the back of Stacker's mind wasn't full of accusation and fear.

_He reminds you of someone, big brother!_ Especially when he was being sarcastic. Luna had always been a smart-mouthed brat too.

Stacker stepped off the ledge. "Mr. Becket, if I do as you ask and discharge you, then I want your word on two points. First, that you will not harm yourself." Raleigh met his eyes with something like resolve, and nodded. "Second, that you do not disclose to anyone that you asked this of me." Raleigh frowned, confused. _So that when the blame and recriminations come down, they come down on me, not you._ "The public must think this was was a medical discharge, and the Corps – all of them, including your friends – must think it was _my_ decision. If you want to go off the grid from your comrades, that's the price."

As skewed as Raleigh's perspective was, he would reach precisely the conclusion Stacker wanted him to: that this was for the sake of the personnel rather than protecting him. _As for your comrades, they will call me a monster. Maybe they're right. But better that than any of them calling you a coward or a deserter._

He waited. It didn't take Raleigh long. The boy was in no condition to analyze Stacker's motives too deeply. He was being offered what he wanted: escape, to be consumed by his guilt and self-loathing with no one who knew enough to question it.

But if he was alive, maybe there was still hope that he might find his way out of the ashes. Stacker already had a notion of what to do if Raleigh resigned… a failsafe to protect his former Ranger without Raleigh being aware of it. That could still be done if this ruse worked. Raleigh didn't want survivor's benefits or contact with his crew, nothing official or familiar to remind him of the past. But Stacker could call in some old favors, and maybe provide for him in more subtle ways. Raleigh wouldn't expect that.

_He deserves his freedom. If nothing else, this devil's bargain can give him that._

So Stacker kept himself immobile and his face blank until Raleigh nodded. "Okay. Deal."

* * *

_All business, that Pentecost._ And Raleigh was glad of that, or as close to glad as he could feel about anything. Pentecost wasn't bullshitting with him, or acting all soft. Raleigh was a nuisance to be gotten rid of, whatever the rules and regs might say about officers' welfare. Good thing Pentecost had been willing to stick to the book when it came to raking a fuck-up over the coals.

_I've got no right to be here now. It's my fault. I got him killed… Yancy… Yancy…_

Like a fog over his brain, some remnant of the drift settled over him, dulling words and faces and voices until all he could hear or see was the torn pod and the empty rig, all he could feel was blood in his eyes and cold rain and ice on his face, and all he knew was the hole in his soul. All he could hear was screams and then silence.

He practically ran from Pentecost's office afterward, to seize the reprieve and get out of this place and all its memories, but the crew found out. He shook them off when they tried to catch him and argue with him.

"He can't do this, Rals! Wait, please, just wait! C'mon, let us take you back to talk to him," Hien Nguyen pleaded.

"You can't just wander out of the Dome, come with me!" Chloe Warner urged. "Christian and I are going back to Hawaii, come with us! Raleigh?"

People called and shouted, he even heard curses and crying, though they stopped when he paused. It didn't matter. They didn't like it because Yancy wouldn't have, not because Raleigh didn't deserve it. He doubted Pentecost would have bothered talking to him at all if Yancy hadn't asked him after Clawhook. Raleigh didn't remember that, but there was a lot after Clawhook that he didn't remember. And what he did remember was too much in any case.

_They know what I did. They know what I am. The only favor I can do anyone is disappear, so they don't have to feel like they have to look after me for his sake._

It could only be for Yancy's sake that Carolina found him, more desperate than he'd ever seen her. "Raleigh, Raleigh, please, don't do this! Don't leave here alone! I'm going, please, you must come with me! Don't leave us all wondering what happened to you!"

Raleigh wrenched away from her. "I said _no!_ " He almost kept going, but he heard her sob. He stopped. Some of the milling crew were staring at them, so many tears and distraught faces.

_I wrecked everything. I hurt everyone. I got him killed. They're trying to help for him, and all I do is hurt them._

Forcing himself to think, he made himself look at Carolina again. She looked old, for the first time he could ever recall. She'd loved Yancy so much, and now he was gone, thanks to his stupid, arrogant, reckless brother.

He couldn't look at her anymore. He couldn't take looking at any of them. They were all looking for Yancy, and it was Raleigh's fault. "Go home," he whispered, his voice choked off. "Go to your family, like you want. You can't… I can't… I'm sorry, sorry for everything." He backed away. He had to get away. "It's okay, you don't have to do anything for me. Just go."

She breathed raggedly in the silence that followed, and he couldn't stand any more. He went down the hall to his quarters and didn't look back. She didn't follow.

After that, a few of the others tried to talk to him, but the urgency seemed to have left them. They'd finally accepted that their loyalty was misplaced, and that they didn't owe Raleigh Becket anything more, not even for Yancy's sake.

He did feel a pang for Tendo. They'd been tight even apart from Yancy, and Raleigh thought he heard someone say Cady was leaving too. _I'm sorry, my man. Sorry for everything. Sorry I wasn't a better jockey so it wouldn't have come to this._ He probably should have asked what Tendo would do now, but couldn't bring himself to do it. He didn't have the right. It was over. He wasn't a Ranger; they weren't his crew anymore. He'd failed them. He'd failed Yancy. The sooner he was out of their lives, the better for all of them.

It got his attention a little when Tendo too seemed afraid he'd kill himself. So he promised yet again, to Tendo on top of Pentecost.

He'd be lying if he said that thought didn't occur to him, if he didn't wish maybe he'd just go to sleep and not wake up… but he'd promised. And… it'd be wrong. Even if he wanted it all to just stop…

_"_ _Raleigh, listen to me! You have to - "_ No matter where he was or what he was doing, he flinched every time he heard it in his head.

He wouldn't lie down and die. Whatever he'd done, however he'd failed, he wouldn't break his word on top of it.

If nothing else, he could give them that.

For Yancy.

_**To Be** _ _**Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** _ _Fallout erupts among the Rangers over Raleigh's discharge from the PPDC, and Herc becomes the last member of a conspiracy to protect their own. But he and Chuck have face new challenges as they begin full-blown drifting and confront RABITs they never expected in_ _**Chapter Twenty-One: Only What You Take With You!** _
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Jiro and Hayase Shindo: pilots of _Tidal Dragon_ , Japan's Mark-2. Foster siblings from Nagasaki, Japanese martial arts teachers in their mid-30s who helped develop Jaeger Bushido. Tidal Dragon had only one engagement (Razorfin in mid-2018) before her reactor design was proven unsafe, and exposed the Shindos to high radiation. Jiro died less than a year later. Hayase (along with Duc Jessop, whose wife Kaori died of cancer from radiation in Tacit Ronin) has been treated by the PPDC as a propaganda tool ever since, to the deep resentment of their fellow Rangers.
> 
> Dr. Steven Tán: Chief Medical Officer of the Jaeger Academy and Anchorage Shatterdome, late 20s, Chinese-American
> 
> Commanding Officers
> 
> Marshal Vincent Gagnon: commanding officer of the Jaeger Academy, late 50s, formerly Canadian Air Force. Facing retirement soon due to health problems.
> 
> Marshal Blake Ketteridge: commands Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force. Intensely nationalistic, he considered the Hansens his poster boys and intended them to be pilots of the Mark-5 Jaeger. After Scott was drummed out of the Corps, Ketteridge assisted Chuck in applying to the Jaeger Academy over Herc's protests, essentially blackmailing Herc into giving permission.
> 
> Admiral Daichi Yamamoto: commands Tokyo Shatterdome, Japanese Navy, mid-60s. His son, Haruki, was a spotter pilot who died in an accident that destroyed Chinese Mark-2 Silver Lion in late 2018.
> 
> Colonel Sanae Okita: commands Nagasaki Shatterdome, Japanese Air Force, late 30s, second youngest commander after Stacker Pentecost
> 
> General He Liang: commands Hong Kong Shatterdome, Chinese Army, mid-60s.
> 
> Gipsy Danger's Crew
> 
> Carolina Olivares: Gipsy Danger's Public Relations Representative, handles scheduling, public appearances, etc. Late 60s, Mexican-American from San Francisco, widow who came out of retirement to join PPDC after K-Day. Initially working with Romeo Blue, she was reassigned to Gipsy Danger at Stacker Pentecost's request due to his belief that the Beckets needed a firm hand.
> 
> Cady Spencer: one of Gipsy Danger's LOCCENT officers who serves with Tendo Choi, Filipino-American from Seattle, late 20s.
> 
> Christian Warner: Gipsy Danger's drivesuit technician, age 30, African-American from Atlanta, GA, attended Jaeger Academy with the Beckets and his sister, Chloe, who is now in K-Watch.
> 
> Chloe Warner: K-Watch worker in Honolulu, transferred after she and her brother Christian failed to become Rangers at Academy. Age 28.
> 
> Hien Nguyen: Strike trooper, National Guard transplant, Vietnamese-American in her early 30s.
> 
> Antwan Ferrier: Killed in Action in January 2019 along with eleven other strike troopers when their chopper was destroyed during rescue efforts after Romeo Blue's battle with Hardship. Jamaican national, late 30s (the oldest of Class 2016-B to pass the first cut in the Jaeger Academy) one of the biggest men in the Corps. Team Dad to Gipsy Danger's crew, his death remained a shadow over them.
> 
> Class 2016-B
> 
> Brian Patrick and Janet McDonald: First cousins, Irish nationals who lived in Panama and each lost a parent to Kaiju Blue after K-Day, early 30s. One of four teams (including the Beckets) to survive the second cut, but failed to make the third cut. They returned to Panama as strike troopers and joined the crew of Rio Sentry, Panama's Mark-4.
> 
> Bao Wang and Shan Thou: First cousins, Chinese nationals in their early 20s who put off technical school to attempt Jaeger Academy. Passed the first cut but not the second, and received PPDC funding to return to school. They are now J-Techs with Crimson Typhoon.


	21. Only What You Take With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fallout erupts over Raleigh's discharge from the PPDC, and Herc becomes the last member of a conspiracy to protect their own. But he and Chuck have face new challenges as they begin full-blown drifting and confront RABITs they never expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** _ _Thank you all once again for the amazing feedback and reviews! It's been great seeing your discussion and speculation, so please keep it coming! For those interested in the explanation that Stacker gave Tendo (and Alison Begay's bar fight), read Chapter 1 of_ Conflict of Interest _. The World War II table map is a feature from Chapters 21 and 22 of_ Aurora Borealis _(it also featured in Chapter 4 of_ Tales From The Front Lines _). The conversations that Herc and Chuck recall in the drift with Devi Hassan took place in Chapter 15 of this fic. There was more to those Boxing Day commiserations than appeared in the chapter._
> 
> _**Fanon Note:** _ _Just a reminder - neither Herc nor Chuck are always reliable narrators, especially not in their expectations of each other._

**Chapter Twenty-One: Only What You Take With You**

_Anchorage Shatterdome…  
April 1, 2020…_

Stacker's initial plan was to keep absolute silence on the bargain with Raleigh and the reasons for it.

When his co-conspirators confronted him, he braced himself for Caitlin's to be the first storm of rage, but instead, she was quiet. "We may never have drifted, but I poked around your brain enough. I know how you operate, Stacker. I watched you in 2016, and after Clawhook."

He sighed. "Meaning?"

"Sometimes I think you told everyone including yourself that you didn't like Raleigh just to distract from how much you liked Yancy." There was sadness and far too much understanding in her voice. Stacker stared at her. "He was a lot like you. I noticed that. So did Duc, when they were here after Yamarashi."

Duc nodded. So Caitlin, Sergio, Marshal Gagnon, and Duc Jessop were more cognizant of the situation than he'd realized, and they were on to him. So it remained a conspiracy, and he could only hope that whatever consequences were unleashed would fall on him alone, not them.

Caitlin understood far more than he had ever realized, or at least more than he'd ever been prepared to admit. "We won't let you take all of the burdens or all of the blame, Stacker, so get that idea out of your head."

_But I failed him. I let him die, and leave his brother alone._ He tried to muster an argument. "If there are questions, the digging will start." It was the only way to put her off. "He wants it this way. The choice was his."

"But we're not going to tell his crew that, and they'll assume the choice was yours. So will Krieger and the UN," said Sergio. Stacker just nodded.

"They're going to go after you now," Gagnon warned. "They're not fools."

"Shall I resign now, then?"

"No. We need you, and so do the rest of the Rangers. They need someone who puts them first. But I'll stay in command here."

"Vince, can you manage that?"

"Don't worry about me. I'll send Duc to the lodge." Gagnon gave Stacker a keen look. "You should go join Tamsin for a little while, until it blows over. The next attack will force them to pay attention to something else."

Stacker shook his head. "I'm not running from the call I made."

* * *

And so the fallout began. It was Stacker's doing, and he steeled himself to endure it. Mrs. Olivares put her resignation letter on his desk, effective immediately, and said coldly, "I pity that girl with such a cold father." He hadn't come up with an answer before she was gone.

Cady Spencer resigned, looking torn between either attacking Stacker physically or just having a nervous breakdown. Christian Warner resigned and left with his sister for Hawaii, where she would rejoin K-Watch. Hien Nguyen requested a transfer to another Shatterdome, as did Valentina Medina and most of Gipsy's remaining officers.

Tearful goodbyes took place in the Shatterdome in the wake of Raleigh's departure, but the crew inevitably fell into silent glares when Stacker came upon them. He vowed not to let it get to him. This was his choice, after all. What right did he have to deny them their anger?

And better that they direct it at Stacker Pentecost than at Raleigh Becket.

Within the bounds of regulations, he let them vent their rage when they wanted, and sat through multiple meetings for those who could stand looking him in the eye long enough to speak their piece. Most left afterward, unhappy with his explanation. He did reprimand Alison Begay for her bar fight with her ex-boyfriend, and another tech for smashing a piece of equipment. He stood immobile as the crew divided up some of the Beckets' keepsakes and memorabilia that Raleigh had left behind, and broke down the table map in the officer lounge.

Tendo Choi stayed, and presided over the distribution of the gifts/bequests. Principal among them was the division of the miniature Jaegers and kaiju that had adorned Raleigh's World War II-style table map. It had gone with the Beckets to every posting, a centerpiece of every officers' lounge whenever Gipsy Danger was around.

Each of the little model Jaegers went to that Jaeger's pilots, and the miniature kaiju to the teams who'd killed them. Stacker came across Ilisapie Flint and Zeke Amarok, receiving their little Chrome Brutus and urging Tendo to send Gaduka to Panama. "That was Carlos and Jordana all the way; Puma Real really landed the death blow. They should get the trophy."

Then they spotted Stacker, and the Canadians hardened in unison. Tendo looked awkwardly away, and with curt nods, the pilots left.

Apart from their rigidly-formal letters of protest, Bruce and Trevin, Sasha and Aleksis, and Herc Hansen didn't communicate with Stacker at all. _So ends the Mark-1 glory days. Maybe all the glory days._

Stacker wondered if even Tamsin would never forgive him.

He expected the little Coyote Tango to go to the Tunaris, but to his shock, the next day, Tendo came silently into his office and put two small objects down on his desk: Coyote and Onibaba.

There was a tag around the model kaiju's neck. The crews had composed epitaphs for all the kills (with varying levels of crudeness and artistry.)

_O Onibaba_  
Godzilla lasted longer  
But you're uglier

_Coyote Tango_  
Beat your freaky ass to death  
Say Sayonara

_A haiku by Yancy Longfellow Becket._

Something inside Stacker cracked, and it was at that very inopportune moment that Herc Hansen walked in.

* * *

Every time Herc Hansen thought he'd seen the worst life could dish out, someone managed to prove him wrong.

He'd thought the Rangers' darkest hour was in the Anchorage Shatterdome on Leap Day, declaring Yancy Becket dead with his kid brother still screaming in the infirmary.

But it was the day they learned Raleigh had been dismissed from the Corps for insubordination that the entire Ranger population erupted. It went through the Corps like shock waves from a nuke… first disbelief, then anguish… and rage.

"What the FUCK?!" Sweet, laid-back Ilisapie Flint threw a hanbō across the Kwoon and might have started breaking things if Fightmaster Tessori hadn't tackled her. "That – that – son of a BITCH!"

"How the hell could he do that? Who authorized it, who the fuck could justify it?" Zeke demanded.

The candidates, Chuck among them, just clustered on the far side of the Kwoon in dismay as the active-duty Rangers went into collective meltdown.

At first, Herc was inclined to simply join them in storming the Shatterdome and rioting in Stacker Pentecost's office. _How could you? Why, why would you do it? How dare you?!_

But something stopped him. At first he couldn't put his finger on it, and it finally came to him a few days after Yancy's funeral. Raleigh had left the Shatterdome and his heartbroken crew, and the Jaeger Academy personnel were struggling to find their feet again and resume training the remaining candidates.

Herc and the remaining Rangers in Anchorage took some small consolation that Raleigh's dismissal hadn't been disclosed to the public. The formal press release said only "discharged," and everyone collectively seized on the little white lie – just by implication – that it had been a medical one rather than a disciplinary one.

"Not that I wouldn't love to see Pentecost hauled in front of Congress for this, but Rals doesn't deserve the press freaking out on him," Ilisapie muttered. Zeke and Cascade Victor's pilots nodded, while Caitlin and Sergio just looked away.

That was when it finally dawned on Herc: Caitlin Lightcap hadn't said a word.

Caitlin had a temper, and her protectiveness of the Rangers was famous throughout the Corps (if virtually unknown outside of it.) From all Herc knew of her, from all he'd seen and heard of her since those first days in 2015… she should have been on a bloody rampage. She should have been roaring for Stacker's head the loudest, leading the charge to reverse this atrocity.

She wasn't.

She was no less heartbroken than any of the other Rangers and crew who'd known Raleigh and Yancy. But she wasn't angry at Stacker Pentecost for what he'd done.

So rather than question her, Herc decided to go to the source, and confirm a nagging suspicion that was starting to grow.

He got that confirmation in a way he'd never imagined. Coming quietly into Pentecost's office, he actually startled the man. "Why did it have to be like this?" he asked calmly.

Standing motionless with – was that a toy kaiju?! – in his hands, Stacker looked at Herc, and for a split second, Herc thought Stacker would break down right there. Instead he turned away.

And Herc knew: _There's more to this than just Stacker Pentecost being rigid about the rules. Secretary General Krieger and the UN had plans for Raleigh._ "I get that you can't let it get out," he said softly. "You could tell me anyway."

Stacker's shoulders were hunched, and he was clutching that toy like a talisman. For a few long minutes, Herc thought he'd get no answer. But then, in a ragged voice, sounding like the words were dragging themselves out against his will, his fellow Ranger started talking.

"I made a deal with him. If he swore not to harm himself, I'd do as _he_ asked and discharge him for insubordination. I would never have agreed… if I could see any other way of stopping the UN from pursuing him for propaganda. He agreed not to tell his crew about our bargain, so that the reason for his discharge is kept from the public. Krieger and the Americans will be all too glad to let him vanish now, rather than let the media learn about this. And his friends will blame me for his leaving, rather than him. I let him go. It was the only way I could find to give him his freedom."

Neither Herc nor Stacker had ever been ones for baring their souls… but the way the man sounded made him think of that conversation with Devi on Boxing Day, desperate for _someone_ to understand.

When the story was over, and the only sound in the room was Stacker's ragged breathing, Herc murmured, "Caitlin knows."

"Yes."

"Who else?" Stacker didn't answer, and finally turned around again to shoot Herc a _look._ Herc didn't comment on the glitter in his eyes. "What are Krieger and the brass going to do?"

"Nothing, if they want this to stay internal." Resolve was coming back to him, and Herc shared it now. "And when Duc announces the end of his tour 'for health reasons,' they'll put up _and_ shut up and let him go if they don't want this to replace all their propaganda."

"What about Raleigh? Can he even take care of himself? Do you know where he's gone?"

Stacker met his eyes and slowly nodded. Breath rushed out of Herc from sheer relief. "He believes he's alone. He wants to be alone, so I'll let him believe that," Stacker said quietly. "But if he changes his mind, or is in trouble, I'll know. Let the rest pass. It's the closest thing to freedom we can give him."

Herc nodded. "When I get back to Sydney, I'll tell the Hassans – not details, just enough to ease their minds," he insisted, seeing Stacker's alarm. "See if I can put them and the others off; otherwise, they won't be content just to accept this, and they might take it into their heads to try to find him."

"If he wants to come back, he will. But until then, all he wants is to be left alone. It was the only wish of his that I had the power to grant."

So Herc let it go and went back to the Academy and his son. They resumed synch testing, and their score started going up again. Sometimes, Herc was still incredulous.

Other times, he felt something like relief. As if drifting might bridge the void that existed between him and his kid, since he was too cowardly and inept to do it any other way.

* * *

_Jaeger Academy, Class 2020-A, Term 3  
Mid-April 2020..._

Five teams passed the second cut.

"Weren't we graduating six or seven per class before?" Chuck heard his dad mutter. "What happened?"

"Initial applications went down for this term," said Dr. Lightcap. "With no new Jaegers being ordered, national governments aren't funding recruiting prep anymore, so fewer pass screening or make the first cut. And the - the fatalities..." She flushed and looked away, and Chuck realized she wasn't talking about Knifehead.

The same disaster in Manila that he'd jumped on as an opportunity, a lot of other prospective pilots might have seen as the opposite.

As the ten candidates – Herc included – were getting the pre-testing tour of the full-input simulator, Chuck's dad was off to the side in muttered conversation with the D'onofrios a lot. "I know Bruce and Trev had a lot of rabbit trouble five years ago, but I can't ask them to come up here now."

So it was Lightcap who pulled Chuck aside the day before their full drift test. "Don't assume it's a sure thing now, Chuck. Full drift is an even heavier minefield for any team. You and your father have a lot of mental obstacles to get through."

"We can control it," Chuck insisted, but Lightcap shook her head.

"That's the thing: you _can't_ 'control' it. That's the one thing you can't try to do if you want the handshake to survive. You have to be prepared to face it, let it flow right through and not try to stop it or turn away from it or distract yourselves. You have to look it in the eyes, and it's not easy." She dropped her eyes for a minute, then asked awkwardly, "Do you understand what I'm getting at? What you're going to see?"

"A…" Chuck's mouth went dry. Rabbits were often traumatic memories, the instructors said. They candidates had been encouraged to write down the ones they could predict. That had been difficult enough, but Chuck had done it, aware that it would only get harder. So he forced himself to say it. "Scissure. My mum, the day she died. The way she died, if he knows. Some of my dad's combat missions. Manila. Whatever it was Scott did."

"You don't know?" she blurted.

Chuck slowly shook his head. "I mean… I kind of know. Wasn't hard to figure out," he muttered. "He killed someone. A girl. I think he raped her." He hadn't seen anything during the synch tests, but had felt the wash of Herc's shame and guilt, the sense that of all people, he should have seen the warning signs and prevented it. Lingering fear for the Hassans… Chuck had picked that up.

"You need to talk to him about it today. He… it's not up to me to get into it, but if you're not prepared, you won't succeed."

"If we fuck up, it'll be him, not me," Chuck grumbled.

"For God's sake!" Lightcap exclaimed, rounding on him. Chuck jerked back in surprise. "Drifting isn't about proving badassery, and if you keep that attitude up, _you_ are the one who's going to fail. And your father's not the only one who questioning whether you're mature enough when all you can talk about is how invincible you are!"

There was a long silence, then Chuck pulled his scattered thoughts together and blurted, "'Badassery?'"

She blinked, then laughed and looked down. "Well, there's another symptom of drifting for you: you pick up your partner's choice of language." She looked back and regarded him. "Your father's not setting you up to fail. I'd know if he was. But you can't think about succeeding with him as beating him, or it won't work. There aren't any secrets in a successful drift."

"So he's gotta tell me... about Scott. What actually happened."

She nodded.

* * *

Chuck wished they could be outside to talk about it, but it was thirty-five degrees and pouring rain, so they were stuck in quarters, feeling like the walls were closing in.

"What'd Scott do?" he asked curtly. Herc glared at the wall. "I need to know, so it doesn't get me off-guard in the drift."

"You haven't worked it out?" his old man muttered, sounding like he thought Chuck was slow if he hadn't.

"He raped a girl and killed her," Chuck said. "Sometime before Manila. Dr. Lightcap said you need to warn me… what you saw."

Herc was silent for so long that Chuck thought he was going to refuse… and wondered if he wasn't just trying to keep Chuck in the dark for once. Finally, Herc muttered, "More than one." Chuck's stomach lurched and started crawling up his throat. "It started in Sydney, a few weeks before. I didn't see it until Manila." The shame and self-loathing in his voice only made the roiling mass of disgust in Chuck worse.

"It wasn't your fault." Now Herc looked up in shock and Chuck realized he'd said that out loud… and meant it. He swallowed hard against the nausea and made himself repeat it. "It wasn't."

Herc kept staring at him, and it was almost like the drift floating around them, where sensation and emotions shimmered in the air, just a little, as if they could actually understand each other. Chuck felt something like disappointment when Herc looked away again, but his dad said, "You need to realize… Caitlin's right, that rabbit's gonna be a strong one. You'll… _feel_ it, not just see it. From… his perspective. How he… liked it…doing that to those girls. Imagining other women, women we know."

_The Hassans._ Probably. Other girls who'd turned Scott down too. "Who were they? The girls he hurt?"

"Prostitutes. Poor girls, off the street, no one to miss them. He knew what he was doing, when he picked them, the bastard. The investigators think some probably got away, ran off…he liked the power."

"Shit." Chuck had to sit down. This was the closest to full-blown second thoughts he'd ever had. _I don't want that in my head, not ever…_ "What do I do? How do I stop it?"

"I'm not sure," Herc admitted. "It's killed the drift with other candidates."

"How many tries do we get before… they give up on us?"

"It varies. It's more our call." Herc met his eyes. "It's not the only rabbit you'll have to dodge. Sydney too."

Now it was Chuck's turn to look away in a hurry. He had to face that too, had to be ready for it, or he was done. How bad did he really want it? "Did you see? That day?"

"…no. Stacker Pentecost told me what happened."

Chuck swallowed hard. He and his old man both had to face it down, then. "Say it."

After another long silence, Herc did. "The MLC Center came down during Scissure's first pass, and he went over it twice before the bomb went off." This wasn't so shocking to hear, but heat filled Chuck's guts again. "You'll see the cloud from the bomb."

He fought down another wave of nausea. "I've seen pictures."

"I know."

* * *

But to Herc's surprise, the memory that derailed their first full drift wasn't Sydney. It wasn't even Manila.

They plunged into the bluish drift space, then Herc could feel Chuck's heart pounding.

_He was five, and one of the kids in school had sneered that his daddy was gonna die and never come back from Yemen, and his heart pounded when he went home to ask Mummy, and Mummy cried as she tried to explain it wasn't true…_

_He was eighteen on his first leave from training, and very drunk, and there was a girl with strawberry blonde hair and freckles and green eyes at a bachelorette party. "Let's have one for you next! I volunteer!"_

_Her friends called her Efficient Angie. She never forgot anything. She hoped to get a degree, but her mum was sick with liver cancer, her dad long gone, and she was the only caretaker. She rarely had the chance to get out. Scott had charmed her mum so she and Herc could date when he had leave…_

_He was nine, and Mum discovered Scott had taught Phineas how to curse, and chased him around the house with a broom. Chuck and his friends had shrieked with laughter while Scott ran for his life and Mum bellowed threats and over it all, Finny just kept repeating, "Eat shit! Eat shit!"_

_"Phineas died last night, Herc," Angie told Herc on the phone._

_"Aw, hell, you said you thought he was sick. How's Boyo taking it?"_

_"Trying to put a brave face on. The vet's going to give us his ashes to bury."_

_"Maybe have a funeral with some of his mates," Herc suggested, wishing he was on the same continent to give his kid a hug._

_"I thought the same, but he says no. I don't think he wants them to see him cry."_

_Hell..._

_Hell was coming down on Sydney, smoke choking the air and some acrid, chemical stench that eyewitnesses always talked about: Kaiju Blue..._

"Jesus..." One or both of their throats got tight, and Herc fought to stay in the drift. "Hang on, kid, this is it."

"I got it..." Chuck croaked.

The handshake wavered and they focused, focused through smoke and ash and the echoes of screams and sirens - _look at the window, look at Caitlin, look at the HUD readout, don't chase the rabbit..._

_The mushroom cloud over Sydney... it meant she was dead... maybe she wasn't dead, maybe she'd gotten far enough away..._

"Herc, you're drifting out of alignment!"

"Sorry... I got it..."

Chuck shivered... _his memories of that moment were dark with his face hidden under Scott's jacket... he'd done what Dad and Scott said, hadn't looked, hadn't looked, but he'd_ known... _he'd been cold and he'd felt the chopper shake and he_ knew _Mum was dead..._

_Dad had said there wasn't time, and there they'd been, Dad and Scott and Chuck but not Mum..._

"Chuck, you're drifting..."

_Why were they here and not Mum, why? Why hadn't he gone to get Mum first?_

_The world was tilting and swaying and he was sick with guilt and anger and hurt and the sour taste of alcohol in his mouth, he pounded on their door..._

_He shouldn't be burdening fellow Rangers, but he wound up at her door..._

_She opened it..._

_She opened it..._

_Holy shit, they'd both been there that night..._

But it was Chuck's memory that flooded in and overwhelmed them and sent them spiraling out of alignment and reality into the past...

_"Chuck!" Devi and Suze stood in shock at the doorway at the state of him, drunk off his ass and practically sobbing, barely able to stay upright and no idea what he was doing there, only hours after he'd said he was ready to be a pilot._

_He couldn't hold anything back anymore. "He doesn't want me! I knew it! I knew he regretted it - he can't stand me, I'm not good enough - "_

_"Oh my god." They pulled him bodily into their quarters and made him sit down._

_"Do we need a medic?"_

_"No!" he tried to pull away, but too off balance to get free of their hands._

_"Chuck, look at me. Look at me. Hang on, Suze – Chuck, what'd you drink? How much have you had?"_

_"Where'd you even get it?"_

_"Was Scott's," he mumbled. "His stash. Nobody got rid of it yet."_

_"How much?" Indra's face floated in front of him, looking at his eyes._

_"Dunno, bottle was half full." Someone put a glass of water under his nose. He took it and drank. He didn't want the infirmary. Ketteridge might change his mind._

_"I don't think he needs a medic," Indra said. "Probably better to give him water and let him sleep it off._

_Then they were gone and it was just Devi, sitting next to him as he slumped on the couch and tried not to cry. So pathetic, of course his dad didn't want him to be a Ranger, he_ wasn't _good enough, he was a waste like Danny Oliver said, and Herc had been so stupid to go after him instead of his mum._

_He didn't realize he was talking out loud until Devi shook him. "Chuck, kid, that's not true. Your dad loves you."_

_"Y'only think that 'cause you like everybody," he muttered. "Your sister even thinks I'm bad news."_

_He didn't realize she'd come back, or maybe she hadn't gone and he just hadn't noticed, but then Susanti was in front of him. "For god's sake, Chuck, is that really what you think?" She practically had him by the sides of his face to make him look at her. His head seemed to keep lolling down, or maybe he was just too ashamed, too pathetic. "I do not hate you. Nobody in this Dome hates you. You're what we're all fighting for."_

_"Then why can't I fight? She's dead and it's my fault - "_

"They're chasing the rabbit. We need to deactivate."

"Wait...wait, I got it..." Chuck breathed, and their minds tottered back to the center, moving forward again, able to see reality again.

So that was why Devi'd been so awkward that night - Herc had showed up looking for a shoulder to cry on when his kid had been there hours before.

Herc winced as Chuck's resentment flashed through the drift. He didn't like Herc looking at her and liked even less the idea of her looking at him. If she chose him, she'd _side_ with him too.

But she'd spoken up for Chuck. Suddenly he and Herc could both remember that in the drift. _"Give him a chance,_ " she'd urged Herc. " _Give Raleigh his freedom._ "

_"_ _Raleigh!?"_ Resentment flared into fury, and they tumbled out of alignment like a derailing train, thoughts flying in every direction.

Herc flinched, trying to hold back, suddenly embarrassed at that half-formed affection and longing he'd felt for that kid –

\- _another kid, any kid better than me -_ knowing his dad was looking at other candidates was bad enough, but this one he'd actually _wanted_ -

\- _so young to be alone_ –

\- _but you'd leave_ me _alone, leave me behind again -_

"That's not true!" Herc shouted aloud.

The test pons hummed as they powered down and the handshake was gone but it was like they were still awash in anger and shame and bitterness and loneliness and hurt and jealousy and Chuck was practically ripping the gear off trying to get away from him.

"Anyone was better than me, right?" Chuck hissed when Herc tried to stop him from stalking out of the lab. "All these months I've heard about it, you running all over the fucking world, Shatterdome to Shatterdome for candidates, anybody you could put in front of me!"

"You're taking it too personally - "

"Yeah, personally, like it wasn't personal for you with Raleigh Fucking Becket." Now the memory of pity mingled with jealousy and loathing. "I work for years and _I'm_ not good enough, but you'll run to take care of that fucking mental patient 'cause even a bloody _failure's_ a better choice than me - "

Herc lunged for him as the door burst open. "You stupid, ignorant, little shit, you're damn right I'd rather give Raleigh a second chance when you're too goddamn arrogant to even appreciate your first!"

"Yeah, and we all know Devi likes the Beckets better! What's the plan? Replace Yancy in the conn-pod and maybe she'll let you replace Yancy in her bed too?"

"Get the fuck away from me!"

Chuck dodged around Caitlin on his way out of the lab, and Herc nearly knocked her to the floor. Only some vestige of consideration made him stop and steady them both. His face, already flushed with anger, now flushed deeper with embarrassment as he caught fleeting glances of all the techs who'd borne witness to this.

He tried groping around for an apology, but Caitlin pulled herself together and pointed at the door. "Go after him, Herc."

She had to be joking. He snorted and turned away. "It's no use, Cait. It's not going to happen."

Her hand came down on his shoulder - hard - and she spun him around with enough force that it nearly knocked him off balance. Her face inches from his, Caitlin hissed, "I don't give a _shit_ about the handshake, Hercules Hansen! This isn't about the Jaeger!" Stunned, he just stared at her, and she repeated, "Go after your son."

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** _ _Herc and Chuck must face down the demons in their hearts and in their heads in drifting together is going to work, but sometimes they feel besieged on all fronts in_ _**Chapter Twenty-Two: In Common!** _
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Marshal Vincent Gagnon: commanding officer of the Jaeger Academy, late 50s, formerly Canadian Air Force. Facing retirement soon due to health problems.
> 
> Marshal Blake Ketteridge: commands Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force. Intensely nationalistic, he considered the Hansens his poster boys and intended them to be pilots of the Mark-5 Jaeger. After Scott was drummed out of the Corps, Ketteridge assisted Chuck in applying to the Jaeger Academy over Herc's protests, essentially blackmailing Herc into giving permission.
> 
> Carolina Olivares: Gipsy Danger's Public Relations Representative, handles scheduling, public appearances, etc. Late 60s, Mexican-American from San Francisco, widow who came out of retirement to join PPDC after K-Day. Initially working with Romeo Blue, she was reassigned to Gipsy Danger at Stacker Pentecost's request due to his belief that the Beckets needed a firm hand. Resigned in protest after Raleigh Becket was dismissed.
> 
> Cady Spencer: one of Gipsy Danger's LOCCENT officers who served with Tendo Choi, Filipino-American from Seattle, late 20s. Resigned in protest after Raleigh Becket was dismissed.
> 
> Christian Warner: Gipsy Danger's drivesuit technician, age 30, African-American from Atlanta, GA, attended Jaeger Academy with the Beckets and his sister, Chloe, who is now in K-Watch. Resigned from Gipsy's crew and relocated to Hawaii with his sister after Raleigh was dismissed.
> 
> Chloe Warner: K-Watch worker in Honolulu, transferred after she and her brother Christian failed to become Rangers at Academy. Age 28.
> 
> Hien Nguyen: Gipsy Danger Strike trooper, National Guard transplant, Vietnamese-American in her early 30s. Seeking transfer to another Shatterdome after Raleigh Becket's dismissal.
> 
> Valentina Medina: Gipsy Danger support chopper pilot, mid-30s, Mexican-American Marine from Corpus Christi, Texas. She joined Gipsy's crew as a replacement for the crew of Whiskey Gamma, who were killed when the chopper was destroyed in the aftermath of Hardship in 2019. Seeking transfer to another Shatterdome after Raleigh Becket's dismissal.


	22. In Common

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herc and Chuck must face down the demons in their hearts and in their heads if drifting together is going to work, but sometimes they feel besieged on all fronts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** Thank you all so much for the incredible feedback! FYI, alas, I'm going to have to slow down updates again to every two weeks for the time being, as work is heating up and next week I'm moving to a new apartment. (Have you ever tried relocating three cats? Do you know how hard it is to accomplish that without grievous bodily injury?!) Please keep the reviews coming!_
> 
> _**Canon Note:** The POVs in this chapter will occasionally seem muddled, especially when Herc and Chuck are drifting, because they're still learning how to function and identify themselves. My theory is that there's a learning curve involved with any new partner (that very few can successfully navigate, hence drift compatibility being so rare.)_

**Chapter Twenty-Two: In Common**

_Jaeger Academy, Kodiak Island, Alaska…  
Mid-April 2020…_

_My son?_ Herc reeled from the echo of two sets of emotions and thoughts in his head.

Hurtangerlonely - _he doesn't want me he doesn't want me I knew it he wishes he hadn't I always knew it even your dad doesn't want you around -_

Was that ghost drift or just memory? Could they seriously drift with things like this floating around in their brains?

Caitlin didn't give a damn about the drift. But when Herc looked past her at the display he saw something he didn't expect. They'd been in alignment, then out again, sliding back and forth across the target, not even able to stabilize enough for the cognitive tests to start...but the handshake hadn't broken. _They_ hadn't broken it. The techs had had to deactivate it once it was clear that they weren't going to let the rabbits go.

_So we're not out of the running._

He left and went out onto the grounds after his son. It was only after he'd gone nearly halfway there that he realized he knew exactly where Chuck was, sitting on the rocks overlooking the bay.

By that same token, Chuck knew he was coming, but didn't make a point of starting to stalk away until Herc was well within earshot.

"Giving up, then?" Herc asked him.

The kid was startled enough to stop and look back. "We're not out?" Herc just shook his head. Chuck stared, and Herc could well imagine - or maybe still sense - what he was thinking.

He picked up a stone to throw, then thought better of it; there were too many birds and seals on the rocks. A couple of otters were playing in the shallows, and a bunch of weird little black and white ducks were waddling around the rocks to dive off after fish.

"Puffins."

"Mm?"

"They're not ducks, they're puffins. Zeke Amarok told me. He used to give hiking tours."

And Chuck would've been curious about this northern landscape and its wildlife, so unlike where he'd come from. _Like his mother_. Out of the corner of his eye, Herc saw Chuck flinch. So they were really ghosting after just one drift. Good sign if they could sort themselves out long enough to actually function in the test rigs.

A twinge of frustration and hurt rippled through Herc's head that he knew at once had come from his son's. It wasn't an articulated thought. The ghost drift wasn't strong enough yet after only one full handshake, but Herc got the gist of it: He'd really rather be piloting with Becket?

Herc sighed. _I never know whether to give you a hug or a kick in the ass._ "You're taking it the wrong way. It wasn't about preference." Chuck shot him a dubious look. _How do I get you to understand? Is that even possible?_ Maybe in the drift, it would be. If they drifted again, would they still have to slog through awkward conversations? "Raleigh...he was one of the youngest to ever finish Jaeger training. _The_ youngest to be a pilot. If we finish this, you'll be the youngest."

Chuck didn't get it. "So... what, you want him to keep his record for posterity or something?"

"No, I just don't care for the precedent of how it ended, damn it!"

_Oh._

Chuck couldn't claim to not know that part, not after the drift, not after weeks of synch testing. No matter how pissed off or willfully disinterested the kid was, he couldn't claim he didn't know that much of what was in Herc's mind.

He didn't. And when he muttered, "I'm not gonna die," it didn't seem to just be another round of childish bravado for once. It was almost like the kid was trying to reassure him.

"You don't know that," Herc muttered, unable to look at him.

"Okay, fine, I don't. No more than you or any of the others."

He'd be better than the others. Chuck didn't say it out loud, but Herc scoffed anyway. "The Beckets were the best in the world until ten weeks ago."

"They fucked up - "

The kid caught himself even as Herc rounded on him, furious. "Don't. _Do not._ Yancy's dead, and Raleigh's lost everything; show some respect." _Or better yet, try a little compassion._

Chuck might've been more inclined that way if he hadn't known Herc had imagined Raleigh in the place he wanted for himself, but Herc sensed him letting it go. Raleigh Becket was gone. If anything killed Chuck's chances now, it wouldn't be another candidate.

"It's not - " - _a competition, you dumb kid!_ Herc started to snap, but suddenly he knew, beyond any doubt: Chuck knew that.

"You always think it's a game to me," the kid growled.

They'd wrapped him up in Scott's coat so he couldn't see, but he'd _known._ Even when there were Jaeger action figures on the table and he'd laughed trying to imitate the Rangers at their Bushido... he'd known. When the crews had ruffled his hair and fussed over Max, called him a future Ranger, he'd known what that meant. It was so damn insulting that his old man thought covering his eyes meant he wouldn't see.

Herc was embarrassed now. _Maybe I'm the naïve one after all._ "I was trying to protect you." _For her._

"You can't. Kaiju'll kill me anyway. The bastards kill everyone and everything. I'm gonna kill them. I want to fight."

Incredibly, something like humor was creeping back into Herc's chest. "It's not a humanities degree you've been working for," he murmured.

"What?!"

One look at the kid's baffled face, and Herc did laugh. He shook his head and watched the otters swimming. Cute little things. They were all in pairs. "It's what Devi said, when she told me to stop resisting letting you try."

"She used to be overprotective with Susanti. They told me."

"Suze is her sister, not her kid."

"Either way, they're still alive. And they're partners because Suze can trust her."

_Could we ever have what they have? Do we even deserve it?_ Did Herc? After he'd failed so completely with one partner?

_It wasn't your fault -_ That thought startled him as much as it did Chuck, more so to realize whose head it'd come from.

"You ready to give it another try, then?"

"Yeah."

* * *

So they went back and tried again.

To Chuck's intense relief, the Psych Analysts didn't press for details about what they'd seen or ask what had thrown them off track in the first round.

Before being cleared for combat simulations, they'd have to get through a slew of cognitive tests and mental puzzles in the drift, learn how to think and move in unison, and balance their control of each hemisphere.

A few recovery days later, the second round went better, in that Chuck managed not to let anger and frustration turn into a whirlpool that sucked him out of the drift... but worse in that as they started struggling through cognitive puzzles and response tests, the past kept pressing in on them.

Herc didn't realize until then that Chuck had actually _seen_ Scissure, its nightmarish, demonic form rising out of the smoke from downtown, buildings coming down around him like a person would shove through the bushes. Amid the chaos in the schoolyard as teachers screamed for the other kids to get inside, Chuck was _sure_ the monster had been looking right at him...

"Jesus - " Herc lurched back and the holographic image in front of them blurred out of existence, the conn-pod tilting in their minds...

"Herc, you're way out of alignment!"

"Do we need to cut it off?"

"Wait!" Chuck exclaimed. _Dad! Hey, old man, pull it together!_

_Holy fuck, you saw it, I didn't realize you saw it, I never knew -_

_Because you never fucking asked!_

Well, that did the trick, and Herc was seeing him again, not his eleven-year-old self.

_Focus. We want to kill them. We're gonna kill them, not let them kill us, make them pay..._ Herc's mind slid back to meet his, but they were teetering on the tightrope, and even as they started to glide forward again and through the memories of screams and smoke and terror, Chuck heard other screams that weren't the kids from school or sirens or Scissure's roars... _Oh shit._

"Hang on," Herc grunted. _Here it comes._ Rage and loathing and shame and horror came rolling towards them like a tsunami, like the rolling cloud of debris ahead of a kaiju and collapsing buildings, but this was no giant monster, just the one who'd shared Herc's mind before...

_God!_ Chuck saw. Chuck _felt_ , and his gorge rose - he almost ripped the pons cap off just to dive for the bucket next to his rig - but a hand latched onto his wrist in the real world, not in memory...

Herc, more fierce and determined than Chuck had expected, grabbed Chuck's arm and held onto him, physically holding him back from falling into the rabbit. _Not this. Whatever kills us, if anything finishes us, it won't be this, it won't be you, you sick stinking bastard. You won't be what defeats us._

That Chuck could understand. That he could hang onto. He closed his own hand around Herc's wrist, white-knuckled, and they stayed in the drift.

_Jesus Christ, he was a monster._ Chuck couldn't look away, not without breaking the handshake. They had to go through it. Most of the candidates who'd made it this far with Herc had fallen to this. They couldn't deal with having Scott Hansen's memories in their heads, so they'd given up. _Not me. Not me and my dad, we won't lose to you - oh my god, she was younger than me._ Maybe. Herc shuddered and fought the urge to recoil or just vomit himself. _Sorry. Where's the - the - test..._ Chuck struggled to keep his attention on their task. Had to refocus. Had to let it pass and float by - but had the MPs found her? The girl? This girl or the other girl? Were they both dead or had there been others too still out there -

"Chuck."

"Sorry," he gasped. "Sorry... I got it."

_Realigning._ He could see the display again, and he and his father glared at it with rigid determination, forcing their mental eyes and ears away from Scott... _but those girls... can't do anything for them here, not now... getting lost in the rabbit won't bring them back..._ He let go of Herc's arm and slid his half of the hologram back into place.

Aligned.

"Test complete," announced the AI.

The handshake deactivated, and the simulator hummed as it powered down. They buckled together, and Chuck was never sure which of them hit the floor to vomit their guts out first.

"Ranger Hansen, Mr. Hansen, we'll need to discuss what triggered this de-alignment - "

"Shut UP! It can fucking wait!"

Affection for Caitlin whispered in the ghost drift, and Herc got on top of the disgust and horror at the memories first. Chuck felt his Dad's hand on his shoulder, steadying him as his stomach gradually figured out it was already empty, and he finally managed to stop heaving.

There was a shuffle on the speakers, arguing voices, and Caitlin bellowing, "OUT of my lab!" at the Psych Analysts.

Herc laughed weakly. Chuck looked up at her through the glass, snarling like Danny Oliver's little cat when it saw Max, more ferocious than its size would ever let on. Caitlin hadn't always been like that. He knew it from Herc's memories.

"Yeah, believe it or not, she was kind of timid once," Herc murmured.

The lab window darkened, and Caitlin told them over the speakers, "Take your time, guys. I've told the analysts to wait in the conference room."

"Thanks," said Herc. "You okay?"

Chuck nodded, and let his dad help him to his feet. The other teams seemed to hang all over each other the longer the simulator practices went on. Chuck felt a little weird imagining himself and Herc that way, but... he had to admit they did touch more now than they'd used to. Well, from everything he'd read and observed, that was just the way it went with drifting.

Unfortunately, he already knew, having to sit down with the damn Psych Analysts and hash out anything that bothered them in the drift was also the way it went. "You did this with all the others?" he muttered at Herc as they washed up in the bathroom.

"Yeah. Unless they just threw in the towel right there. Some of 'em did."

_I don't blame 'em. Those girls were just... no. Can't think about that - but..._ "Don't want to," he croaked, leaning over the sink and wondering if his stomach would rebel again. "Not give up," he clarified, sensing Herc's tension. "Not for this."

"'kay. Then we need to go meet the shrinks."

Chuck straightened and found himself a little less wobbly. He shot the old man a wry smirk. "Did you ever get used to the headshrinking? Before?"

When Herc smiled back, the relief that rippled through Chuck was surprising. "Nah. Never did."

Chuck was surprised to find himself actually relieved that Caitlin was there, but to his and Herc's shared dismay, there was a new addition to the psych team waiting in the meeting room. "Guys, this is Dr. Ramya Dahari. She's in charge of your analyst team."

Herc frowned, and Chuck sensed his dad was as confused as he was. "Newly assigned?"

The woman, who looked South Asian, shook her head. "I've been watching your progress, but didn't think you needed any more pressure on your first few simulations. You're doing very well."

That wasn't what they expected. But the psych team had the power to halt their training. So they hemmed and hawed through the excruciating review, but to their surprise, Dr. Dahari almost seemed to be on their side. She repeatedly cut the other headshrinkers off when they tried to press for the gory details of what Herc and Chuck had actually seen. In this instance, Chuck was happy to let Herc do the talking.

"We've gone over it already," his dad growled. "Before we ever started testing. I told him what Scott did and what he might see. It's not bloody pleasant, but we can get through it."

"And you did," Caitlin confirmed. "They finished that cognitive test within the time allowed. If the rabbit starts interfering with their ability to meet the objectives, _then_ you can get into the detailed triggers. Until then, the evidence speaks for itself: they're coping with it."

To Chuck's mortification, while the psychs let Herc off the hook, they pressed for more input from him. "You're the youngest candidate to ever pass the second cut," said Dr. Dahari, in what might have been a few shreds of tact. "If it makes you feel any better, there were a lot of questions like this about the Wei triplets as well, because they were nearly as young as you. Ignoring emotional distress isn't an option for prospective Rangers. We're not just picking at you for the fun of it."

Chuck sighed. Yeah, she was right. He'd always been more interested in the tech aspects and the fighting techniques than the deep psychological implications of piloting Jaegers, but he'd dutifully read all the studies as his youthful dream had turned into an ambition. And when the Hassans and Team Lucky's crew had given him advice, he'd listened.

"I can get through it," he insisted. "Just... focusing on me and not imagining I'm him. It's the same as the other rabbits."

"It's not," Dr. Dahari said firmly. Chuck scowled at the table top, but the next point startled him enough to make him look up. "What Scott Hansen did is not comparable to remembering a kaiju attack. Almost all of our finalists have learned to cope with those memories; the majority have witnessed attacks. You're witnessing a _crime,_ Mr. Hansen, and the man who committed it will always be there in that drift with you even though he's in prison for life."

Chuck got the sense that the renewed wash of nausea and horror that went through him then was Herc's, not his own. Not that Chuck wasn't sickened all over again. But he swallowed dryly and shook his head. "Yeah, it's a different kind. But the way we have to react to it's the same - refocus. Stay in the center. I can do that."

Dr. Dahari dismissed the rest of the team, and after a bit of prodding, Dr. Lightcap left too. Chuck and Herc looked awkwardly from each other to Dahari then stared at the walls. She considered them, then chuckled and said, "We might as well skip the pair session. Ranger Hansen, let's start with you."

Chuck knew that was the signal to leave, but he hesitated. "What's the point of solo sessions, though? We drift."

"You do. But believe it or not, you're not the only team – especially not the only male team – who still has trouble talking," Dahari told him. "You're certainly not the only ones uncomfortable with this part of the program. But since I can't drift with you, and I do need to hear from you about what comes out in the drift, the solo sessions are to give you a chance to talk without the direct presence of your co-pilot."

Herc raised his eyebrows, then snorted faintly. "So you finally worked out something other than just making us answer questionnaires?

"Scott just lied, but they never kicked him out," Chuck said without thinking. Then he and Herc both winced, and he hurriedly left the room.

* * *

Dr. Dahari considered Herc, and he tried not to glare at her. It didn't do any good to be hostile to the headshrinkers. Herc knew that. Scott had baited the psychs whenever possible, and Herc had thought it was more entertaining than anything else. _Maybe if I'd pushed him on that, instead of just dismissing everything, he could've been stopped before..._

Or at least Herc could have been the good example. So with a sigh, Herc made himself open the door. "So what do you need?"

"That's not the question. Contrary to what you may think, the psych analysts' job has never been to make your lives difficult. We're here for you, not the other way around."

Herc managed not to snort. "Got any insight for me, then? How to drift with my kid who can barely stand me when both our heads are full of rabbits?"

Dahari leaned back in her chair. "You're already drifting with him, and you're the experienced one. Don't you know why it's working?" Herc shook his head, avoiding her eyes. "Yes, you do know: you made a choice. Each of you had a choice, and each of you made it. To drift is to make a decision."

Unlike a doctor's office, the Jaeger Academy meeting room had specs sheets on the walls instead of generic, soothing art. Well, in many ways, those images and statistics were more soothing to Herc than some random landscape. He gazed at them, identifying each Jaeger despite the fact that not one was titled with the Jaegers' names. He honed in on Vulcan Specter. Lucky Seven's wasn't here – come to think of it, none of the fallen Jaegers were here. Maybe the psychs had thought it would trigger people. They might not be wrong. Gipsy Danger wasn't there either.

"Has there ever been a pair like us that didn't get along?"

"No team has a perfect relationship. If you'll take a little introductory advice, I'd recommend letting go of expectations." Herc pondered that, and she went on, "You and your son are capable of forming a partnership. You've already done that in sync tests and two simulations now in the full drift. It's not easy, but each time, you've both made the choice to let each other in. Don't focus on what you think it's supposed to be or even what you wish it was. Let your drift be what it is. Every Jaeger is different. So is every partnership."

Herc smiled to himself, still looking at the Jaegers rather than her. "Five years in, this is the first time I haven't wanted to climb the walls, so you're doing something right. It felt like Scott and me were getting shoehorned into optimum drift performance when our team worked us over."

"I know, I read the reports." He grimaced, but she smiled. "For now, we'll forego the mandatory team sessions, although I reserve the right to call a meeting if you two develop serious problems. Those times will come. And drift or no drift, you can each be candid with me. Including about things that concern you but aren't easy to raise to each other."

"Like…" It was easier to think of it in terms of what Chuck would need than himself. "Like what he saw today. He's got things he wants to ask about it, but… dunno if he could manage to ask me. Or if I could manage to answer."

To his surprised relief, she nodded firmly. "Exactly. It's not weakness on your part, you know. The subject of Scott is always going to be triggering for both of you, but what he did and the part of it that is now your shared memory is something you're going to face again and again."

"Dunno if he'll be able to talk about it to a stranger," Herc pointed out. He noticed that she didn't prompt him to share details either.

"Not right away, no. But that option is open for both of you, and I want to make that clear."

After their psych session, Chuck and Herc dutifully headed for the Kwoon and slogged through the post-sim physical drills and went three rounds on the Bushido forms just to work off nervous energy - or try to.

* * *

Early in the evening, they were joined by Danny and Evie, looking strung-out from their afternoon sim practice, but exercises passed quietly in what was almost comfortable companionship. "Where's Xichi and Lo Hin?" Herc asked the other pair.

"Medical," Evie told him. "Their turn in the scans before their sim run tomorrow morning."

A week into Term Three, Class 2020-A was down to three teams. Five had passed the second cut, but the American pair had melted down in the very first full drift attempt. The other pair of candidates, Chinese, had bid fair to challenge the whole field for first stab at a Jaeger. But then one of them had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, which would explain why the medics had stepped up the testing routine for everybody else and all the active-duty Rangers.

Xichi and Lo Hin joined them in the mess hall at dinner. Herc wandered off soon after, leaving Chuck tapping out an email to Indra Hassan and scanning through a new set of pictures of Max.

"Three teams left, three Jaegers," Evie Nakano observed.

"No excuse to fuck it up, then," Chuck replied. Flipping through the news headlines, he scowled at the editorial pages.

**_Is The Jaeger Program Worth It Anymore?_ **

**_Jaegers: Big Machines, Big Price Tag, Small Benefit._ **

"You look like you're about to break that tablet," murmured Evie.

She was right; he was squeezing it so hard that the screen under his fingers was flickering. He slid it across the table to her. "Damn commentators are saying we should get de-funded. A couple bad fights and they jump ship."

She glowered at it. "That first one's written by Gill Block," said Danny, reading over her shoulder. "He represents some confederation of landowners in the middle of the US. They want to defund the Jaegers and build that anti-kaiju wall so their real estate makes a killing."

"Didn't know you followed American politics," Chuck remarked.

Danny shrugged. "When they're pushing for all of us to lose our jobs and calling my dad – and yours – a waste of resources, I start following. Profiteers all do that every time there's a setback. Now it's all about the _wall,_ the _wall,_ the life-saving, miracle _wall_ of whatever, like no kaiju could possibly knock down a few cubic meters of concrete and titanium."

Evie found a column countering the blowhards, and read aloud, " _'When politicians back home withdraw support of field soldiers for a handful of lost battles without regard for the astronomical gains, what name is there for them but cowards and fools?_ ' Poetic. I like it. There's a poll too. Support for the Jaeger Program versus the 'Wall of Life.' We're still ahead. Fifty-four percent. Five percent margin of error."

"You'd think we'd have a bigger margin," Lo Hin muttered.

"This is a war against giant aliens," Danny replied. "I'm surprised our margin's that big."

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** The grown-ups are away, the kids will play! Chuck and his fellow candidates get frisky, but the memories he now carries from his uncle put a damper on their fun in **Chapter Twenty-Three: Soul Searching!**_
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Dr. Ramya Dahari: Head of the Hansens' team of Psych Analysts, recruited specially by Caitlin Lightcap and Stacker Pentecost (though Herc and Chuck don't know that.) Late-30s, Malaysian.
> 
> Daniel (Danny) Oliver: Age 17, son of support chopper pilot Greg Oliver, survived Scissure along with his little sister, Emma. He began applying to the Jaeger Program two years before, and has finally been admitted to Class 2020-A along with Chuck. The two boys clashed frequently in the Shatterdome, but amid the stresses of drift testing, they've found, er, some common ground (nudge wink).
> 
> Evelyn (Evie) Nakano: Age 18, British-Japanese, another candidate of Class 2020-A. Despite disliking Chuck, she tested as potentially compatible with both him and Herc. She passed the second cut as partner to Danny Oliver.


	23. Soul Searching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The grown-ups are away, the kids will play! Chuck and his fellow candidates get frisky, but the memories he now carries from his uncle put a damper on their fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** _ _Thank you all so much for the feedback and for your patience!_
> 
> _**Trigger Warning:** _ _This chapter contains non-graphic flashbacks to a rape and candid discussion of rape triggers and the motive of the rapist._

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Soul Searching**

_Jaeger Academy, Kodiak Island, Alaska…  
Late April 2020…_

The mood relaxed that evening in the mess hall. It was just the five of them, all under age twenty, none of the senior officers (or Chuck's old man) in evidence. Xichi, Lo Hin, and Evie got into the base's meager alcohol supply, but Chuck and Danny abstained. "I'm getting enough side-eyes already. Last thing I need is the bloody media getting wind of me getting wasted during training," Chuck told them.

"I'm not eighteen yet either," Danny agreed, but told the others. "You go on. We'll be your designated walkers back to quarters."

They wandered down to the Kwoon on the way by mutual mischievous decision. "It's tradition, Jing Li told me," Lo Hin insisted. "You cannot make Ranger if you have not sparred drunk!"

"Do Chuck and me not count, then?" Danny complained.

"You're exempt for now," Evie decided. Xichi and Lo Hin both had better coordination than she did even when they'd had by far the most to drink, and then Danny challenged them each to a drunk-versus-sober bout.

Somehow, amid yelling advice and crude commentary on their techniques and switching back and forth between rooting for one or the other, Chuck and Evie found themselves hanging off each other on the side of the mat. Chuck stiffened when it dawned on him, and Evie actually giggled. He'd never heard her giggle before.

"Sorry, 'm I making you uncomfortable?" she cooed. Bloody hell, this was a side of Evie Nakano he'd never predicted existed! "D'you only bat for my partner's team?"

Well, his old man had hinted that it wasn't weird for Rangers (or prospective Rangers) to hook up with each other. Chuck rallied himself and flashed a grin at the British girl. "Dunno, really. Haven't you heard? I'm just a babe in the woods, too young to know what I like, let alone what I want. You gonna represent the other team, win me over?"

She feigned alarm. "That's a lot to live up to!"

"Heyyy, if you think you can't deliver, never mind." Chuck leaned away, gleeful at getting the upper hand even if part of him wondered if she was too tipsy to realize he had no idea what he was doing. (And _really_ wouldn't if they took this where she seemed to be suggesting she wanted it to go.)

Evie made a little growling noise at him, and it was... hot. Not to suggest that he'd never noticed Evie Nakano before now. He noticed everything on legs, and had more or less concluded what his old man had bluntly hinted earlier in the term: he had eyes for both sexes.

The first one he'd ever had the nerve to act on had been Danny, and that hadn't exactly been the consummation of some hidden crush (perish the thought), just what was apparently mutual curiosity and pent-up stress after drift testing started back in March. It hadn't exactly been earth-shattering (first time for both of them, guided by nothing but what they'd heard and read and sneaked looks at online), but they'd done it twice since.

Now a girl? Evie was two years older, but Chuck didn't _think_ that would make it creepy. She certainly wasn't hard to look at, long and lean with her shiny black braids and bright eyes. Not very curvy, but Chuck had never been all that turned on by busty women (at least not when he'd done the obligatory Internet searches for titty pics). Yet... now he was imagining what Evie's hair would look like if she let it down from her braids, and if her skin and her muscles would feel different under his hands than Danny Oliver's did, and what it would be like to cup his hands on her breasts...

Danny, Lo Hin, and Xichi were still sparring and bellowing on the mat, oblivious to the very different compatibility assessment going on in the corner. "Like what you see, then?" he hedged, stealing a line from some movie.

Evie grinned wickedly. "You're a git, Hansen. But you're a built little git, and I might like finding out if you've got dimples anywhere else." She was suddenly far too focused. Almost… determined.

Damn it, he blushed. And he was a little nervous when they scrambled to their feet, knowing it wouldn't take Danny Oliver long to figure out what was up. Even if he and Chuck _definitely_ weren't a thing, he might have a problem with Chuck getting it on with Evie... but when Chuck looked over his shoulder, Danny just winked. (At Evie, not him.)

They slammed the door of Evie's room and crashed against the wall in a flurry of lips and clothes and roving hands, and Evie groaned, "You know what you're doing, kid?"

"You're supposed to be teaching _me_ , remember? It's all on you."

The undressing part was just fun, a lot less fumbling and nervousness than with Danny, and Chuck felt like he could just pretend he knew what he was doing and do what he wanted and not feel self-conscious for once. Her hands were everywhere, and his were everywhere, exploring shamelessly. Her muscles were almost as hard as a guy's, but her skin and other parts of her were softer, and he liked that too. _Dunno why anyone says I have to pick one or the other. I like both._

She tasted like the scotch he'd only had a sip of and smelled like a combination of that and whatever fruity-scented soap she used, and on her bed, he felt _great_ to the point that he wondered if it was possible to get drunk just from kissing someone. He felt like a man, less worried and doubtful with a woman under him, like it was supposed to be, arms and hands and eager, gasping -

_Gasping, eyes wide and he was the man in control, hands around her wrists as she writhed, he'd show the little bitch who was the man here -_

Like a freezing cold plunge back into a drift made of ice water, it cascaded over his mind, and he let out a strangled yell.

No, no, not this, he couldn't, _he couldn't let that -_ it was sick and wrong - a girl's frightened voice babbled meaninglessly in his ears and he was on the floor. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry - " _Monster._

"What the hell's going on?!" The door burst open. "What the fuck?" Then there was someone else, and furious hands were on his shoulders. Chuck expected a fist, but Evie's voice broke through the roaring in his ears.

"Dan, don't, stop! He didn't! Chuck? Chuck, it's okay! You didn't hurt me!"

Those words sounded odd enough that it finally pulled Chuck back to the surface out of the past, and he blinked, finding himself huddled bare-assed on the floor, hands over his face. "Huh?"

Evie was in front of him, wrapped in a sheet. Danny Oliver had backed off, but stood against the wall looking completely confused. Reality slowly solidified around him again, along with a sense of horror based entirely on the present. Heat gathered in Chuck's face and spread down his neck – with no clothes, nobody'd miss it was a full-body blush.

Too mortified to begin to find his voice, he looked away from them and fumbled for his clothes. He had to get out of here. Find somewhere to hide - but if he walked out the door, people in the hall would see, they'd _know._

"What happened?" Danny asked warily. He sounded less like he'd rip Chuck apart, but still suspicious.

"I told you," Evie snapped. "He didn't hurt me. I don't know what..." She trailed off in confusion, looking at Chuck.

Chuck found his voice at last. "I'd never hurt a girl," he mumbled, trying not to shake too hard as he got dressed.

Evie didn't have any idea what he was talking about. But Danny Oliver did.

In the back of his mind, part of Chuck still tended to think of Danny Oliver as slow and dense. This year had disproven it beyond any doubt; morons didn't make the second cut in the Jaeger Academy. Whatever problem Danny still had with math, it didn't extend to his reasoning skills.

Danny's dad, Greg, had been in Manila. Greg Oliver'd stuck close to Chuck's old man since then. Greg Oliver might not have told his family what Scott had done, but word had got around the Sydney Shatterdome.

So it only took Danny a few moments to work it out. "Oh, hell." The pity in his voice made Chuck curl up all over again. "Shit, mate."

"We're _not_ mates," Chuck growled instinctively.

To his further disgust, he heard Evie laugh. Granted, it wasn't a nasty sort of laugh, more weak, like she was trying to find her way out of the mess with a joke, but it still made him cringe. "Swear that till your dying day, you two. None of us are mates, but we keep shagging each other."

"Hey, shagging someone you don't really like can be hot, haven't you heard?" Danny quipped.

That should have been funny and raunchy, but Chuck just winced again. Where was the line between shagging someone you didn't like and just imagining pinning them down and hurting them? Or pinning someone else down and hurting her and imagining she was whoever you didn't like...

"Sorry," said Danny. "Trigger," he told Evie. Chuck glared, but Danny folded his arms. "She's my drift partner, _'mate.'_ She'll know anyway the next time we test, so you may as well let me tell her if you don't want to."

Yeah, he was right, but that didn't mean Chuck had to like it. "You're the one mad enough to drift with your dad," Evie pointed out, foot stuck firmly in her mouth.

"Trig- _ger,_ " Danny sighed.

Chuck lobbed Evie's discarded shirt at him. "Quit with the fucking commentary, Oliver." He found his own shirt and pulled it over his head. "My stinking uncle hated any girl whose pants he couldn't get in, especially if they were Rangers." He couldn't bring himself to speak of the Hassans by name in that context. "Last year he started hurting girls he picked up, pretending... he killed them. My dad saw it in the drift and turned him in."

He hadn't even meant to go into that much detail. In the painful silence that followed, he finally dared a look. What surprised him was the _lack_ of surprise on Evie Nakano's face.

She'd always seemed sort of... naïve. She shot Danny a wry smile. "And I was worried drifting with you would fuck up _your_ sex life." Chuck blinked, and she rolled her eyes. "You blokes. You always get so shocked. You know lots of women get raped, then you're amazed when you find out you actually know one, and she looks like everyone else." She held up a hand, and Danny tossed over her shirt. They'd only known each other a few months and they were already acting like the Hassans, Chuck observed. "He thought you'd triggered _me_ ," she explained to Chuck.

How was it possible that he _hadn't_ , if someone had done to Evie what Scott had done to those girls? "How old were you?" Chuck blurted.

"Fourteen," she answered, not even hesitating. _Oh god, oh fucking god..._ It must have shown on his face, because now she looked down. "Sorry."

"What for?!"

"Here I'm trying to say I'm not triggered, and I keep triggering you. Finding out in the drift what it's like to be raped... maybe it's worse, finding out what it's like to be the rapist."

"He's so fucking _sick,_ " Chuck hissed. "I wouldn't. I couldn't, not ever." It was more than he'd been willing to say to the Psych Analysts.

"That was the rabbit you and your dad saw today?" It wasn't really a question from Danny, more like just a confirmation. Chuck nodded, looking away. "Wow. And you still met your marks. You two are something."

Chuck shrugged. "We didn't... wouldn't let _that_ take us down. Not that. Not him." He looked at Evie and asked before he could talk himself out of it. "How do you? I mean - not chase yours. Just because it was years ago?"

She shrugged in turn. "Partly. For a long time, anyone who did know about it just decided it hadn't really happened, so it was easier to just agree with them. I decided I wanted to try for the Academy last year, and when I read about the psych part... that was the first time I ever talked to a psych about it." She sat back down on her bed, shoving her bra under the pillow, then grinned. "This is _not_ how I was hoping tonight would go."

Chuck and Danny burst out laughing. "I didn't think anything could be as awkward as her seeing you and me in the drift," Danny remarked. "Good job, _'mate.'"_

" _'We're not mates!_ '" Evie finished before Chuck could - in a growling imitation of Chuck's voice and accent. Still laughing, Chuck flipped her off, and she protested, "Hey, tried that!" He laughed so hard he fell over backwards.

"Do I get to try again?" he asked, once he could breathe again. "'f I promise not to freak out?"

"Dunno, ' _mate,_ '" Danny drawled. "You're still a bit inexperienced. Maybe I should stick around, you know, give instructions."

Chuck was a bit shocked, still more by the look Evie shot the two of them - first dismissive, then... heated, like she'd brushed it aside as a joke only to picture it and... liked the idea. Bugger, she really was _not_ as innocent as she seemed - but this time it was in a good way.

And now he was picturing it too, and even as his face turned red again... shit, if they were up for it, he couldn't deny he'd probably take them both up on it. "Just remember, we're still not mates," he muttered, unable to keep the grin off his face.

* * *

Up until then, Chuck hadn't made any attempt to talk to Dr. Dahari about any subject in their psych sessions, except the ones she raised herself.

A part of him was always tempted to skive off the one-on-one sessions or just bait the shrinks all the time to put them off. But he hadn't done either. This was part of the job. He was going to prove he could do his job, including the uncomfortable parts.

There was also the knowledge from drifting with his old man that Scott had used to love fucking with the psych analysts, making their lives as difficult as possible. Scott had fucked around anytime the job got boring. Chuck would do his job properly during the boring parts as well.

The morning after the debacle with Evie, Chuck stared at his interface for a long time, and finally keyed in a session request to the psych team leader. He regretted it almost as soon as he hit enter, feeling something akin to panic – maybe it would be a sign of weakness, maybe the shrinks would say he was unstable, maybe his old man wouldn't approve…

He got a grip on it by musing that Scott would be appalled. And that was good. If Scott wouldn't have done it, maybe Chuck could take that as a sign that it was worth at least trying.

It was still damned awkward when he arrived for that meeting with Dr. Dahari. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Uh…" Chuck stared at his shoes and felt his face start to burn.

After a minute, while he couldn't bear to look at her face, she took pity on him. "Let's narrow it down. Question or concern?"

"Uh… both, really." Chuck considered it, and sighed. "A question, I guess. Since I can't ask _him._ "

"You understand that while these sessions are private and off the record, your drift partner may be able to see them. And you'll need to let him see them."

Chuck nodded. "I know. He… he said that too, and in the drift, he sort-of told me." Chuck was still amazed by Herc's position on this. "I don't really know why. I'd have thought he'd want to not think about it at all, or see me thinking about it. He should think me doing this is stupid."

"Only an idiot would think a teenager should never be able to talk about the events that led to the loss of one of his two remaining family. Your father has his flaws, particularly as a parent, but he's not an idiot." It was good that Dr. Dahari was so matter-of-fact about it. Of course, she knew what Chuck wanted to talk about without him even having to say. It stood to reason. He'd only come to a psych analyst voluntarily when he had absolutely nowhere else to go for answers. "Did yesterday's drift trigger this?"

"Sort of." _Trying to get laid_ after _the drift, if you want to get technical._ He did not say that. "Before we started drifting, Dad told me what I'd see. But not… why. Why he did it. I mean, I knew why, sort-of, before this. He hated girls, especially girls like the Hassans, who were better at things than him. Girls who turned him down – all girls. But he couldn't get at Devi and Suze so he'd pick girls up who were… weaker, somehow. So he could…" _hurt them. Do everything to them that he wanted to do to Devi and Suze. Even though they were Herc's friends,_ my _friends, he still wanted to hurt them._ "Did he ever really give a damn about anyone?" _Did he really care about my dad? Did he give a damn about me, or was it all just an act?_

He couldn't make himself say it outright, but somehow, Dr. Dahari was on to him. "I think he did love you both." Chuck looked at her, startled. "Nobody's as two-dimensional as the media likes to claim. Good men can be cruel, and the cruelest men sometimes have someone they care about."

_But it still wasn't enough._ "It doesn't make it any better, if he did. Does it?" It just made it hurt more, to think that his uncle's hugs and praise had been genuine. That the same man who'd played Jaeger for Chuck and the other kids had _liked_ hurting girls who were the same age Chuck had been. With half a chance, would he have hurt one of the girls who'd been in family housing with Chuck, like Sarla or Lindsay or Emma? "I don't _get_ it," he muttered, looking at the wall. "They didn't _do_ anything to him!"

"It may never be possible to understand, even with access to the drift. Even if you wanted to see that far into his mind," Dr. Dahari made a face as Chuck shook his head vigorously. "I doubt the answers would make you or your father feel any better."

_We loved him._ "We trusted him. Everyone – the whole world trusted him."

"And he threw that away. He hurt and betrayed you."

"We weren't hurt, not like those girls he killed. This is just selfish."

"It's not," she said, so firmly that Chuck looked at her again. "It's not much consolation, but it _is_ normal. He betrayed everyone who had faith in him and hurt the few people he himself loved. That only counts worse against him."

Chuck swallowed against the tightness in his throat. Even when he'd convinced himself to come here and talk to a psych, he hadn't thought it would hurt this much. "I – last night, I remembered. Even remembering it from inside his head, it was sick. I couldn't…" He felt his face turn red again and looked away. He hadn't meant to admit that either.

But Dr. Dahari kept a completely straight face and didn't even smirk a little. "That reflects well on you. Even if I had to report this – which I don't, so I won't – you've only proven what experienced pilots already believe. That even drifting with an unstable, violent partner can't overwhelm the other partner's morals, or subsequent partners by extension. And your age and inexperience doesn't make you any more impressionable even when you live it from his memories."

He had to admit he hadn't really thought about it that way before.

* * *

It took Herc a few minutes to piece together the babbled, semi-frantic explanation Chuck stammered at him in a hissing whisper half an hour before their next drift. "Listen, just so you don't freak out, Iwaswithagirllastnightanditkinda - uh - wentabitwrongbutit'sfine, she was fine, we both gave all the consent and stuff, Ijustrememberedtherabbitand - uh, you know - decidednottoholdoffImeannobodygothurtsodon'tgetmad."

Well. That would explain why the Nakano girl went beet red the first time she made eye contact with Herc at morning drills.

Still, if Chuck didn't think it should get talked about, Herc wasn't going to push it as long as nobody'd gotten hurt. They flinched hard in the drift from the memory, but got through both it and the one that had derailed both yesterday's drift and Chuck's attempt at trying a tumble with the opposite sex.

_We won't lose to that bastard._

_"This is not how I was hoping tonight would go," said Evie._

_Chuck laughed and laughed. As hookup attempts went, it had been a complete disaster, but he'd_ laughed _afterward_.

Two weeks later, Stacker Pentecost and Marshal Gagnon were in the lab when Herc and Chuck emerged after successfully finishing the last of the cognitive tests. Stacker's poker face was firmly back in place, but Caitlin was scowling, while Gagnon and most of the techs were just looking uncomfortable. "Ranger Hansen. Mr. Hansen. You've been cleared to begin combat simulations."

Herc felt Chuck's heart leap in the ghost drift... it couldn't possibly have been his own heart. But Chuck's face betrayed almost no reaction. Marshal Gagnon gestured to the tablet Caitlin was holding. "The Academy Board has ordered that you begin with the test programs for Striker Eureka. If you finish successfully, you'll be declared Ranger Ready and assigned to the Mark-5."

"Fast-tracking," Herc concluded, managing to keep the contempt out of his voice. It wasn't directed at anyone currently in the room, so no point in making them the recipients.

Now Chuck glared at him.

The kid didn't show up for lunch, and Herc found him outside on the rocks again, examining the blueprints for Striker on his tablet. "What's got your nose out of joint now? Isn't this what you wanted?"

Chuck didn't look up. "Everyone's so bloody convinced I don't have what it takes. Still."

Herc huffed out his breath. "Believe it or not, that's not the problem. Maybe you just need to be 'bloody convinced' that the considerations here don't begin and end with you. What Krieger and Ketteridge are doing with the Mark-5 is damned dangerous, and it would be whether you were the prospective pilot or not." He could tell his kid wasn't convinced. _Thank God for the ghost drift._

"Look..." He sat down, closer than he'd sat with Chuck on purpose in years. Chuck frowned at him, but didn't pull away. "You're passing with flying colors. Nobody's denying that. But there's parts of this that can't be fast-tracked, like adjusting to the drift, adjusting to the Jaeger. Five years ago, there wasn't such a risk that a new crew might have to deploy early. Kaiju were coming every five months instead of every two, and they weren't nearly as big as they are now. It wasn't as vital to go out in teams. On top of learning a new system, we'll be training to fight with another Jaeger, avoid friendly fire, and you've seen a few times in the drift already: that is _not_ easy. It's bloody dangerous, and you think it's rough knowing the lives of your co-pilot and your support crew are riding on it? Add another Jaeger to the mix, her pilots, her crew."

_Jing and Min. Scott and me didn't just wreck Lucky, we got them killed, even the Beckets couldn't save them._ Now the Beckets were gone. How long until both of Australia's Jaegers went out again? Would Chuck be able to shrug it off when Devi and Susanti were depending on them? _It's taking two and three and four of us at a time to put these bastards down and keep them down._

"So what's a better answer?" Chuck pointed out. "That bloody wall?" A snort of laughter escaped Herc. "Okay, I'm not the center of anybody's universe, I get it. I still want to fight. Kill those bastards, one at a time, two at a time, whatever we have to do."

_For her. For all the others._

It came through the ghost drift as clearly as if they were in the simulator. It had taken Herc and Scott almost a year of drifting before they could "think at each other" to that degree outside the sim or the conn-pod. Maybe Herc had always been the odd-man-out among Rangers, that his rapport with his partner had been so weak as to let it end the way it had. Maybe Herc would be the weak link in Striker Eureka too.

He expected Chuck to embrace that possibility both mentally and out loud, so what his kid said next astonished him: "Maybe we can make it work in a conn-pod. So we're not best mates outside the drift. Who says we have to be? We've beaten the rabbits."

That was a damn good point. Chuck had seen Scott's memories, _felt_ them, and managed to hold on. The day after their shouting match over Herc's interest in Raleigh, they'd resumed drills and Kwoon exercises, and finished them all stroke-perfect.

And unlike Scott, Chuck never had to be reminded to show up or pay attention. He took their job seriously, even the boring and embarrassing parts. The kid was only sixteen, but in some ways, he was already a more reliable Ranger than his damned uncle had ever been. A ripple of indignation in the ghost drift told him Chuck was vaguely insulted; that was a low bar to set. Yeah, well, Scott had always been the "cool uncle" compared to Herc. Was it that big a stretch to worry any teenager might take it as an example?

"Please," Chuck practically spat. "I knew better before K-Day."

"What?" Herc stared.

Now embarrassed, the kid muttered, "You know he never kept it secret, his ideas about entertainment. His ideas about women. I knew it was bullshit. _He_ was miserable, but never wanted to change anything. It was always someone else's fault."

Herc was stunned but running his mind through what he'd sensed from the drift, he knew it was true: Chuck had never looked up to Scott. Turning up his nose at his old man had been a show, a sham by a pissed-off, lonely kid, trying to hide how much he missed his fa –

"Cut it out!" Chuck snapped, flinching physically away.

"I _can't,_ " Herc retorted. "Don't you understand yet? _This_ is just the beginning. There'll be no more secrets if we go on, not ever. If you can't handle that, we may as well call it a failure now."

And it dawned on him even as he said it how very much he didn't want to call it that - for reasons that had nothing to do with the war. He felt Chuck look at him, and now it was his turn to cringe. How the hell were they going to make this work?

"Same way we've been doing," Chuck reasoned aloud. They'd managed to share a few parts of their lives: Mum, the support crew, the Hassans. Max.

Maybe they could share a Jaeger. The only way a Jaeger ran was if the pilots shared it. They'd grown apart since Chuck's mother died, but maybe they could keep it together long enough to avenge her. Chuck looked at the tablet on Striker again. Parts of the Mark-5 were clearly unfinished. No logo had been designed yet. "Maybe Max should be his mascot."

Herc smiled. "I like that idea."

Maybe they'd never have what Devi and Susanti had, what Yancy and Raleigh had once had. Maybe Herc needed to quit thinking about it in those terms, and just deal with who he and Chuck actually were. Not brothers, not best mates, and they'd never be. That didn't mean they couldn't drift and couldn't fight. Combat sims would tell the tale, but this wasn't about what Herc wanted any more than it was about Chuck's ambitions.

_So lose the expectations_ and _the wishes. We've got a war to fight, all that matters is winning it._

It ricocheted back and forth between their heads, one of the few things they could unequivocally agree on.

**_To Be Continued..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Coming Soon:_ ** _Herc and Chuck's combat simulation scores are spotty, but the next kaiju attack shows them how it's done when Vulcan Specter, Crimson Typhoon, and Coyote Tango defend Vietnam, and our heroes remember they're not only fighting for the living in_ **_Chapter Twenty-Four: Vendetta!_ **
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Dr. Ramya Dahari: Head of the Hansens' team of Psych Analysts, recruited specially by Caitlin Lightcap and Stacker Pentecost (though Herc and Chuck don't know that.) Late-30s, Malaysian.
> 
> Daniel (Danny) Oliver: Age 17, son of support chopper pilot Greg Oliver, survived Scissure along with his little sister, Emma. He began applying to the Jaeger Program two years before, and has finally been admitted to Class 2020-A along with Chuck. The two boys clashed frequently in the Shatterdome, but amid the stresses of drift testing, they've found, er, some common ground (nudge wink).
> 
> Evelyn (Evie) Nakano: Age 18, British-Japanese, another candidate of Class 2020-A. Despite disliking Chuck, she tested as potentially compatible with both him and Herc. She passed the second cut as partner to Danny Oliver.
> 
> Marshal Vincent Gagnon: commanding officer of the Jaeger Academy, late 50s, formerly Canadian Air Force. Facing retirement soon due to health problems.
> 
> Greg Oliver: Herc's comrade and fellow chopper pilot from before K-Day, now a support pilot for Lucky Seven. Like Herc, he joined the Jaeger Program in the wake of Scissure. He lost his parents and his oldest daughter, Karina, in the attack.
> 
> Min and Jing Li: Pilots of Horizon Brave. Brother and sister in their late 30s, Chinese Air Force officers and China's first Jaeger pilots, they helped shape the program that would become the Jaeger Academy and recruited many talented people into the program, including a certain set of triplets. Killed in action in Manila on December 16, 2019 during the engagement that destroyed Lucky Seven.


	24. Vendetta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herc and Chuck struggle in simulations, but the next attack shows them how it's done when Vulcan Specter, Crimson Typhoon, and Coyote Tango take on a Category IV, and our heroes remember they're not only fighting for the living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Note:** Many thanks to you all for the wonderful feedback! Please keep it coming! Some readers may note the day and location of this attack from the novel - Cerastes is my take on HC-20. I've tweaked the extended canon a bit (the combat dossiers had Striker Eureka and Cherno Alpha accompanying Crimson Typhoon) so since this fic has Striker not launched yet, Australia's other Jaeger fills that spot, and because reasons, Coyote Tango is replacing Cherno. The references to _   
>  _Concepción come from Chapter 35 of Aurora Borealis, which deals with the legendary (but high-priced) battle of Romeo Blue versus Hardship in_ _Concepción, Chile.  
> _

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Vendetta**

_Jaeger Academy, Kodiak Island, Alaska…  
May 25, 2020..._

After a month of combat simulations, Herc and Chuck had nineteen drops and thirteen kills. True to the record of every candidate ever, Caitlin was quick to remind them, the first few combat sims had beaten them.

After the first drop – and first non-kill – that record still didn't stop Chuck from snarling and stomping around the base in an epic snit for nearly three days until they had their next round, of course. He had the maturity - or at least the common sense - to at least pretend he wasn't blaming Herc for their blunders in public, so all Herc had to deal with was the drift blowback like a mosquito in his mental ear until the kid got over it.

It didn't exactly get easier. Far too many of those first kills were kamikaze and _way_ too early for Herc's liking, and they slogged through drills and reviews in stony, frustrated silence. The kid wanted a kill whatever the cost. Herc knew that in the real world, after this kaiju went down, more would follow, and they needed to live to fight another day.

In late May, the Breach alert disrupted that frustrating pattern.

Herc was halfway down the hall from the gym until he remembered he was in the Academy, not the Shatterdome. He paused as Fightmaster Tessori came out of his office. "I thought we weren't doing the full alert for movement in the Breach anymore."

Tessori smiled grimly. "Marshal Gagnon and Marshal Pentecost reversed the policy, and determined that alert procedures should no longer be subject to ratification by the UN. It's a matter for the commanding officers of the individual bases."

"I like the way they think." No doubt the brass would scream when they saw the bills; maintaining base-wide deployment readiness for the duration of an attack was extremely expensive. But if all the bases had been on alert in February, maybe a backup Jaeger could have deployed in time, and then maybe the Beckets and Gipsy Danger would still be on the roster. "As it is, no harm for the candidates to observe the whole process as many times as they can, in real-time."

"Precisely our thinking." The Fightmaster's grin became a little more playful, and he added, "That includes you, as a candidate! To the gymnasium with you!"

Herc grinned as he saluted and jogged off to join Class 2020-A.

He and Chuck had both forgotten their constant bad moods over the simulators as they waited for news of the real world. About seventy people still loosely made up this "class" of would-be Rangers and trainees who'd been eliminated from the pilot pool but chose to stay on and become crew.

"We have a Category IV, codename Cerastes," Sergio D'onofrio announced. "K-Watch forecasts a west-southwest trajectory. Six legs, high ambient radiation levels, median indicators of toxicity. Any predictions on the recommended Jaeger response, candidates?"

Herc didn't bother raising his hand, but all of the prospective pilots did along with quite a few of the support trainees. Lo Hin Shen got called on. "Triple team, sir."

"Correct. We currently have five triple-Jaeger teams organized and regularly trained." Sergio gave them all a grim, thin smile. "And God help us if we have to go beyond that in one engagement. The job for Tactics now is to work with K-Watch in predicting where this bogey is likely to go and determine the ideal location for deployment."

He patched them into the vid conference between the various Shatterdomes, keeping the mic off but the speakers on so the candidates could hear. Herc couldn't deny the way his blood quickened listening to it, and a part of him was fidgety, wishing he was back in Sydney with... a partner, any partner, and a Jaeger to get into.

_"There is strong runoff current coming from Hong Kong, but also heavy weather,_ " reported General Liang's Oceanographers in Hong Kong. _"It's pushing the trail to the south._ "

_"The A-Team is now Crimson Typhoon, Coyote Tango, and Vulcan Specter_ ," said Admiral Yamamoto from Tokyo.

Major Bingham was visible in Hawaii surrounded by a crew of his K-Watchers, tracking various lines and patterns on a massive hologram of the ocean. Herc's gaze caught the black woman on a headset to one side, entering coordinates into one of the interfaces. Even if he hadn't remembered her as one of the crew who'd milled hopelessly around the Anchorage Shatterdome in the wake of Knifehead, the deep sadness in her face made her noticeable.

_First time back at work since you lost them._ Herc was familiar with that feeling and had been since long before K-Day. Even in conventional military operations, there was no escaping that sting of going back out into the field and struggling to ignore the gaping hole in your ranks, the trusted presence that was missing.

A two-dimensional projection of the K-Watch Pacific map was on the gym's local interface here in Anchorage, and faint colored lines showed the potential paths being considered. Finally, K-Watch's various computers finished processing probabilities and variables, and the Cone of Uncertainty formed. First west-northwest, towards Hong Kong or Taiwan, but then dipping south, towards Vietnam.

" _A-Team: Crimson, Coyote, and Vulcan, your assignment is Haikou, China. Your deployment zone is Hong Kong through Vietnam. B-Team: Cherno Alpha, Nova Hyperion, Shaolin Rogue, your perimeter is the Philippines, Indonesia, Malaysia, and Singapore. We're deploying you to Manila. All other Western Shatterdomes are remaining at full pre-deployment mode for possible reorganization."_

Herc suddenly felt vaguely ill, imagining the staging areas in Manila coming to life again, crew rushing through the cargo roads and hanging their Jaegers' banners from warehouse windows, unloading the drift equipment and launch rigs from the cargo planes. The pilots on the ground, prepping, waiting...

A tablet clattered to the floor, startling him out of his reverie... and at the same time, he got a mental _nudge_ in the ghost drift. He turned and saw Chuck picking the tablet up, muttering an apology at the crew nearby who'd jumped, but for a split-second, the kid's eyes darted to Herc's.

Herc expected scorn, a mutter of, "Get it together, old man." But while Chuck didn't say anything out loud, the flicker of thought that came through the ghost drift was more... concerned.

He hurriedly turned his attention back to the screen and Sergio's commentary.

* * *

_May 26, 2020…  
Haikou City, Hainan, China..._

Rain fell, dull and steady on the north side of Hainan Island, with haze masking the world still further. Maybe it was just an optical illusion that made the rush and hustle of post-lift and pre-deployment checks look muted, as if even the incoming kaiju couldn't give the crews any energy.

They were commandeering a section of Haikou Xiuying Seaport, turning warehouses into equipment bases and loading areas into makeshift Scramble Alleys. Cargo cranes had turned over the dry docks with giant tarps stretched between them to shield the Jaegers from the worst of the rain while crews scuttled up and down their sides. Soggy banners flapped feebly from the weight of the rain: Crimson Typhoon, Coyote Tango, and Vulcan Specter.

Squelching into the operator building, Vic and Gunnar found the Chinese and Australian Rangers already waiting. The Wei triplets weren't playing basketball today, and it wasn't just the weather holding them back. They'd gone bouncing around the first cement surface they could find with their basketball even in the teeth of a Category I typhoon or the dead of night - and in a pinch, they just played indoors. Today, they just sat around a makeshift table with the Hassan sisters, nibbling on energy bars and electrolyte drinks.

"This a private party or can anybody join?" asked Vic as they moved to join their fellow pilots.

The triplets stood in perfect unison, and Devi and Susanti Hassan both mustered identical, tired smiles. "Tunaris," said Hu, his sunglasses around his neck today instead of on top of his head. "Welcome." They all scooted their chairs around to make room for another pair, and Vic and Gunnar dropped around the table, automatically grabbing their share of the rations without really noticing what they looked or tasted like. You had to eat up and hydrate before an undetermined drop; who knew who long it would be before you got a meal again.

"How've you been?" Susanti asked them.

Vic and Gunnar shrugged in unison. They'd all been drifting long enough that nobody blinked at their little Ranger mannerisms anymore. Even if sometimes it still served as a party trick, there wasn't much of a party to be had today.

Hayase Shindo was dying. The Japanese Rangers were expecting an announcement at any time. Vic and Gunnar half-wondered if she was already gone, and Colonel Okita and Admiral Yamamoto were merely holding the news back while the alert was under way. A part of them was relieved, some vestige of spirituality imagining her reunited with Jiro at last, free of pain and loneliness and exploitation. Another part of them still writhed in denial that Class 2016-A was now truly losing one of its three Ranger teams, and Vic and Gunnar Tunari, Pete Lepp and Hedy Keres, would never reunite with Team Tidal Dragon again.

The triplets and many of the Chinese crew were wearing black armbands with Horizon Brave's emblem. Today would be China's first deployment since that catastrophic loss of the Lis, the founding Rangers of the Chinese Jaeger Program. They'd recruited the triplets themselves. Silver Lion's pilots, Yan-Jie and Fang, had been the other pair from China's first "class" back in 2015, who'd mentored the triplets and so many of the Rangers who'd come after. They were gone too. All four of the pilots who'd built China's Jaeger Program were gone.

Here too were Devi and Susanti, the second graduating pair of Class 2016-B, that Vic and Gunnar had mentored personally. They'd seen Raleigh turn eighteen, and Yancy turn twenty-one, and watched the Becket boys turn America's Mark-3 into the most successful Jaeger in history. And then they'd gone to Yancy's funeral and seen Raleigh looking more like a ghost than a person, lost and hopeless and wandering.

_"Clearly, the Jaeger Program isn't working out!_ " some politician had declared to the UN a week ago. _"We've lost three of them in the past four months, costing the PPDC billions of dollars in equipment!_ "

_Not to mention three lives in the line of duty, just in case that matters to you at all._

At least they still had a fair number of supporters. _"This is a war,_ " another UN delegate had argued. " _Of course, there will be casualties. There will be lost battles and failed offensives. We have lost Jaegers in action, as well as too many heroic men and women who have fought the kaiju on the front lines. There is no option except to continue the fight. This 'wall' will not protect against the kaiju. If we simply abandon the Pacific Ocean, how long until they accumulate in numbers great enough to climb it, to break it down? We don't need to hide from them, we need to continue finding ways to kill them until we can close the Breach!_ "

A buzz from the speakers - probably shorting outside in the rain - made everyone wince, then someone rebooted the system, and the announcement came through: "Attention. Attention. Bogey has entered the South China Sea, now bearing south-southwest. All personnel, prepare for relocation."

One of Vulcan's LOCCENT techs, the Hassans' cousin, came to join them. "K-Watch is thinking southern Vietnam. D-Team is running over to Bintulu, Malaysia in case he veers further south, but the predictions say it's unlikely."

Resting her chin on her hand, Susanti muttered, "K-Watch predicted it was 'unlikely' Knifehead would go further north than California. How many solos have they got floated out to the 'unlikely' spots this time?"

"None," said one of the triplets. "Butterfly Sword stays in Hong Kong, and Bering Tigress will be there soon if the trail is lost. Chrome Brutus and Yankee Star are crossing to Tokyo, in case the kaiju doubles back for Japan." He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "We must stop this. We have a fight soon."

"Yeah, you're right." Suze smiled wanly and pulled herself to her feet, looking around for a clear spot of floor. "Anywhere dry that we can do drills?"

"There is a small fitness center upstairs, Ranger," called one of the locals. "Please, it is at your disposal."

The seven of them stretched out, warmed up, and went through two rounds of Bushido positions to get themselves limber in anticipation of a long wait in their drive suits. And when the call went out for the pilots to report to the choppers for lift to the south, the triplets gathered in the center of the floor and stretched out their hands. The Tunaris and the Hassans joined them in a huddle, like athletes or power rangers. "Today, we make them pay," Cheung vowed. "For all the Rangers they've taken from us."

Devi's grin was feral. "Today, we rip that bastard apart."

" _'Give them nothing, but take from them everything!_ '" Gunnar finished in a growl. Vic and the Hassans laughed, though the triplets frowned. Obviously, they hadn't seen _300._

Their colleagues would have to remedy that. "After," Vic promised them. "Even if one of us ends up in the infirmary overnight, we have a movie to watch."

They shouted their Jaegers' names (though Gunnar switched to "DE-FENSE," making them all laugh) but it got their energy up, and they jogged downstairs to join their crews with a renewed fervor to score this one for humanity.

* * *

_May 27, 2020…  
Jaeger Academy, Kodiak Island, Alaska…_

Fourteen hours later, as the trainees and candidates in the Jaeger Academy watched, three Jaegers plunged into the water off Can Gio, in the mouth of the river that would lead to Ho Chi Minh City and over twenty million people. Vulcan Specter took the point for silent underwater ambush, walking into the deeper area and quietly allowing Cerastes to pass him by. In the shallows, Coyote and Typhoon closed in.

One of the tech trainees murmured, "How come they're not triangulating it like before?"

"They are," said Sergio. He pulled up a hologram that showed the location of the three Jaegers and drew the lines between them, the partially-submerged triangle now awaited the approaching kaiju like a fishnet. "Don't forget, you have three dimensions to work with in the water."

_"Here we go_ ," said Vic Tunari over the comm. " _Arming mortars. Typhoon, he's gonna veer towards you. Be ready... on our signal... fire!_ "

Cerastes, which did resemble the horned serpent of Greek myth for which it had been named, went blasting almost entirely out of the water like an eel fighting a fisherman's hook. Its recoil brought it straight towards Crimson Typhoon, who was already moving into the Thundercloud Formation.

On the three-armed mech's central gun hand, the saw blades flipped back to reveal the plasma caster, and Herc heard Jin growl, " _For Min and Jing Li!_ "

Three bolts of plasma discharged: one tearing off a limb, another scorching some of the softer horn/feeler/things that covered the kaiju's upper body, and the third struck deep in its long central body. Voices roared triumph on the speakers, and there in the Academy gymnasium, and Herc couldn't deny a snarl of satisfaction. There was no way that hadn't been a brutal blow.

Vulcan Specter erupted from the depths like an avenging sea god, and Herc's breath caught when he heard one of the Hassans roar, " _For Yancy!_ " The thing flopped helplessly towards Vulcan and found itself receiving two blasts of underwater lava.

" _Bring him in!"_ shouted the Tunaris, making their stand with the bigger, heavier Coyote in the solid shallows on the river's western shore. Typhoon and Vulcan obliged, pummeling the monster with Vulcan's meteor hammers and lacerating it with Typhoon's blades. Coyote planted her feet and almost seemed to embrace the writhing kaiju, slamming it onto the riverbed and trying to pin it with her foot. " _And this is for the Shindos!_ " A barrage of mortars tore into the wound that Typhoon's plasma had opened in its midsection.

_"Environmental cleanup, maintain a two-mile perimeter until this is done,_ " Devi ordered, as Vulcan barely paused from systematically crushing one horn or limb after another up and down the kaiju's body. _"And that's for Concepción!_ "

" _Typhoon, wash off, you've got blue on your collar!"_ Gunnar warned. Even as Typhoon stepped away to splash down his head and torso in the water, the Tunaris recharged their energy caster and blasted it into the kaiju's upper body, near what seemed to be its head. " _For Tango Tasmania!_ "

" _For Silver Lion_ ," the Weis chanted, turning back and resuming the slicing and dicing of their prey.

_"For Diablo Intercept._ "

_"_ _For Gipsy Danger!"_

It was the most decisive battle in years. They didn't come out entirely unscathed; Typhoon had some obvious corrosion dangerously close to the reactor, and one of his blades stuck and broke in the creature's flesh. Vulcan got bitten hard enough to crush part of his lower left leg, which made Herc and Chuck hiss in alarm as they heard Susanti yelling and cursing on the comm. But they recovered and bashed Cerastes on the back of the head (denting themselves once or twice in the process) until it let go.

" _Typhoon, cut him open. Let's give him a lava colonic."_

The Weis planted one of Typhoon's feet on top of the writhing upper body, and Coyote pinned him further so the red Jaeger's saw blades could open deep, almost surgical slices down its lower flank. Then Vulcan repeated the move that had killed Ningyo years before, plunging his right arm deep into the creature's wound and opening up the lava throwers.

_For Jing and Min Li. For Yancy Becket. For Jiro and Hayase, for Yan-Jie and Fang. For Maria and Miguel. You haven't beaten us, you filthy motherfuckers. We'll beat you back, and make you pay for everyone you've taken,_ Herc vowed as Hong Kong LOCCENT declared no signature.

He looked sideways and found Chuck watching him. "See?" he gestured toward the screen, feigning casualness. "That's how it's supposed to go." _How it would've gone if I'd done it right in Manila._

* * *

_June 2020..._

Chuck and his father's simulator scores improved again, with the A-Team's new set of fight techniques to analyze and try out. Their kill count climbed, and the number of deadly and disabling blows to the Jaeger dropped.

But before they could be deemed Ranger Ready, the Psych Analysts insisted on one final test in the simulator: "We need you go get through both Scissure and Meathead with acceptable scores. The tacticians have prepared them both for solo scenarios."

Chuck dared to question them, scowling at the floor, but more resigned than combative. He knew the power in the hands of the Psych Analysts, and it would mean go or no-go was up to them. "Are we really expecting another kaiju to pop out of the Breach identical to a past one? Come on, we know we've seen some that remind us of the others, but why's it so damn vital?"

"Concepción," said Dr. Lightcap at once. She at least sounded reluctant, like she wasn't _trying_ to trigger something, (unlike the shrinks, who he swore tried to trigger people just for the sake of their note-taking.) "Eyewitnesses to Trespasser had a lot of trouble with Hardship. The kaiju are all the same species, whatever that is, and some cities have been hit more than once. The biggest cities, we can bet they'll be hit again."

A Scissure look-alike... Chuck hated himself for the lump of heat that settled in the back of his throat at the thought of it _looking_ at him again. Would it be as bad with a different kaiju in Sydney?

Would Herc be able to take seeing Meathead again, or fighting another kaiju in Manila Bay?

_No way to know until we try._

So they spaced out their last two sim drops. They decided to take on Scissure first, out of unspoken agreement that it would be the worst. Then Evie and Danny would have their Scissure drop, forcing Danny to confront the kaiju and the bombs that killed his older sister. Xichi and Lo Hin didn't have specific kaiju triggers, but everyone's suspicion was that their scenario would involve a "late drop" in their home city of Quanzhou, seeing a kaiju tearing the place apart and forcing them to fight it out of their own neighborhood.

_Damned sadists._

Striker Eureka dropped into a Sydney already reeling from the kaiju's first offensive, and Herc snarled both out loud and in Chuck's head when they got the scenario: kill or repel the kaiju in that hour before the second nuke.

The drift pressed down on their minds. It couldn't really be that much worse a pressure except for in their imagination, but all the memories beckoning to them were so similar that it was like a kaleidoscope: _MumAngelaMummyAngie_ Herc's wife Chuck's mother her face, her eyes, her smile, her tears, her hands...

They stumbled over a fallen building in the city center, and Herc was stumbling towards her arms - _No..._ "Hey, no," Chuck croaked. "Stop drifting - don't follow it - "

_"It?" Not it, her._

_No, not her, she's not real, it's a rabbit, don't follow - Dad - HEY!_

He deliberately wrenched them off balance so Herc would stop looking towards the MLC Center and imagining her, and Herc grunted, then shook his head and slid back into alignment. "Sorry."

"Pull it together, old man!"

But when they closed with Scissure again, it _looked_ at him, this time face-to-face, and he could see it from a different angle, far below, a child's-eye-view from the ground...

"CHUCK!" _Not real, it's not real - Chuck, snap out of it!_

Something buzzed close to their face like a fly, and Chuck blinked and flinched back... it was a helicopter. They were everywhere, like Herc remembered lifting off from the school. There were far too many to get clear of the Jaeger's weapons and out of the line of fire.

"Just shoot," Chuck breathed, arming the missile array. _Not real, not real, and even if it was real, we'd still have to shoot._

The MLC Center was somewhere in the rubble behind Scissure... the kaiju would probably fall on it. But she was already dead, and whether they won or lost this sim - _not real_ \- she'd still be dead.

_That just means we get to kill this piece of shit ourselves instead of the nuke._ Something primal rose up in their throats at that, and Chuck felt Herc's lips curl into a snarl. They lunged, catching an arm with one hand and deflecting the other from their conn-pod, just close enough to be at point-blank range...

"Fire!" Herc shouted. The kickback was so powerful it almost brought them to their knees. They braced against the kaiju's body - just long enough, just long enough - the hull cracked from the explosions so close. "Empty the clip!" The other arm stopped bracing against them and Chuck released it in favor of grabbing Scissure's head and twisting it as hard as he could. Blast the torso, snap the neck. If only they could have.

Scissure fell and they fell with it, catching themselves in the wreckage of downtown Sydney, but Herc even remembered to grab the comm switch. "Kaiju - signature - gone. Cancel the bomb run."

Chuck blinked sweat from his eyes as he looked at the blurry clock. Thirty-four seconds... thirty-three...

_"Confirmed, Striker Eureka, kaiju destroyed. Bomb disengaged."_

The clock stopped at twenty-eight seconds.

_"Dad, are we gonna get Mum now?_ "

They both winced. In the sudden quiet of the sim pod, memories echoed still louder. They could still see the mushroom cloud in Herc's eyes. Chuck shut his eyes, but all that got him was the dark under Scott's jacket and still _knowing_ they'd left Mum behind.

"Simulation complete. Calculating score."

Neither of them were really listening. The score was good, but they just wanted to deactivate, to turn Sydney off and walk back into Anchorage and forget. Was that good enough? Were the damn headshrinkers satisfied?

_We win._

_Why'd you bother saving me?_ Suddenly it was hard to look at Herc. His dad, who'd come for him and not his mum, kept him under Scott's jacket like some breakable toy and locked in their quarters like a piece of furniture.

Sensing Herc's scoff through the drift did nothing for Chuck's mood.

They were both relieved when the handshake finally deactivated. Even so, the ghost drift simmered between them as they slogged through the instructor review and grunted one-word answers to questions, looking everywhere but at each other. Dr. Lightcap watched them but said little, apart from confirming that their handshake had been solid throughout the simulation, and the deviations from alignment hadn't put them in danger.

When they were released, Chuck bolted from the lab and didn't look back. The walls of this place were pressing down on him. It was all he could do not to run out of the building.

It was warm outside, like actual _spring_ warm. He'd almost forgotten what that felt like. Even the sun felt so damn cold in Alaska. He stumbled across the grounds until he was down facing the water and even the chill from the gulf breeze wasn't so bad, because he could breathe. There were birds, and sun was warm on his face, and he could drive smoke and screams and a monster's roaring out of his head.

But the ghost drift was still too strong, and he was faintly aware of what was going on back in the lab. _"You really think we're all right?"_ Herc asked Lightcap.

_"As far as any outside source can determine, yes,"_ she said. Herc's confusion buzzed in Chuck's head. _"You've both met every objective criteria we can come up with. You're drift compatible."_

_"But?"_

Chuck wondered if the sudden tightness inside was his own tension or Herc's. Caitlin raised her eyebrows. _"'But' nothing. That's the long and short of it. You're compatible. You can operate a Jaeger, you can fight in one."_ She gazed at the lines and graphs on her monitor, incomprehensible to Herc or Chuck, then finished, _"If you choose to. You're waiting for a stumbling block, but that's what it is: the two of you. Whether you choose to stay together."_

The after-image in the ghost drift was fading; seeing through each other's eyes never lasted long. But Chuck suddenly realized he was straining to hang onto it. Herc must have known that too.

" _Is it really as simple as that?_ "

_"I never said any part of it was simple."_

Then it had faded too far, and Chuck was alone on the rocks with only the echo of another set of emotions in his consciousness. He rubbed his temples, wanting it to go away... but it wouldn't. And it never would if he wanted to do this. It was their choice, his and his old man's. Pilot Striker Eureka together or not at all.

Six months ago, Chuck had been certain that if his old man refused, he could find someone else to drift with. Now? _Fat chance._ He and Danny Oliver and a few of the others had been in the "middle to strong potential" range during synch testing, but he and Herc... highest potential, the results had said. Over eighty percent handshake on the first try. What were the odds of Chuck ever being able to pull that off again? He supposed he could try if he wanted. Hell, Herc _had_ tried it with almost a hundred others, and even when he'd made it into the simulator, those prospective partners had all wiped out.

Chuck hadn't wiped out, and it was a hell of a lot more personal in his head. He and Herc shared plenty of nightmares, and they pressed down on both of their brains, shimmering and whispering into the drift space.

Would that ever stop? Would the rabbits ever go away? Or would they at least stop making his stomach churn and his head feel like it was floating away from his body? He could ask Devi or one of the Ranger instructors... but somehow, Chuck doubted it. _Live with it and fight through it or get out of the conn-pod._

There was a bark, and Chuck called, "C'mere, Max," before he remembered. Startled he looked around and saw a dog watching him from further down the rocks. He grinned. "Hey, mate!"

His visitor was bigger than Max, like some kind of German shepherd or sled dog - there seemed to be a lot of those in Alaska. A stray, from the bedraggled look of him. He wouldn't let Chuck get close enough to pet him, but never completely ran away. Chuck chased him back and forth along the water's edge until the sun was nearly down - close to midnight. The ghost drift's surge of proximity told him Herc was approaching, and he felt the muted echo of amusement as his old man caught sight of them.

"Oi, what's this? Dances With Wolves? You cheating on Max?"

The dog barked once at Herc, then trotted off, almost casual-like, as if he'd just been keeping Chuck company until his dad arrived. Chuck gave his old man a droll smile. "Guess he didn't like the looks of you."

Herc handed him a tablet. Chuck looked at the Breaking News story and couldn't help the way his breath caught.

**_Veteran Ranger Hercules Hansen to Pilot Australia's Mark-5 Jaeger with Teenaged Son!_ **

**_To Be Continued..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Coming Soon:_ ** _Herc and Chuck face an entirely new opponent in the court of public opinion, and even as they move closer to being confirmed as Striker Eureka's pilots, the past lurks both in and out of the drift in_ **_Chapter Twenty-Five: Variable!_ **
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Jiro and Hayase Shindo: pilots of _Tidal Dragon_ , Japan's Mark-2. Foster siblings from Nagasaki, Japanese martial arts teachers in their mid-30s who helped develop Jaeger Bushido. Tidal Dragon had only one engagement (Razorfin in mid-2018) before her reactor design was proven unsafe, and exposed the Shindos to high radiation. Jiro died less than a year later. Hayase (along with Duc Jessop, whose wife Kaori died of cancer from radiation in Tacit Ronin) has been treated by the PPDC as a propaganda tool ever since, to the deep resentment of their fellow Rangers.
> 
> Fightmaster Anjin Tessori - one of the senior martial arts/Jaeger Bushido instructors at the Jaeger Academy. Japanese national, age mid-60s.
> 
> Major James Bingham: A former British Army officer in his 60s, now the senior Response Tactician of K-Watch, he tracks the kaiju and presides over forecasting where they're heading.
> 
> Min and Jing Li: Pilots of _Horizon Brave_. Brother and sister in their late 30s, Chinese Air Force officers and China's first Jaeger pilots, they helped shape the program that would become the Jaeger Academy and recruited many talented people into the program, including a certain set of triplets. Killed in action in Manila on December 16, 2019 during the engagement that destroyed Lucky Seven.
> 
> Yan-Jie Lim and Fang Lao: Pilots of _Silver Lion_ , China's Mark-2 Jaeger. First cousins in the Chinese Army, part of the inaugural group of Jaeger pilots. Officially, they were killed in action against kaiju Raythe off the Japanese coast in 2018, but in fact, they were killed along with their support crew by a massive malfunction that crippled Silver Lion.
> 
> Daniel (Danny) Oliver: Age 17, son of support chopper pilot Greg Oliver, survived Scissure along with his little sister, Emma. He began applying to the Jaeger Program two years before, and has finally been admitted to Class 2020-A along with Chuck. The two boys clashed frequently in the Shatterdome, but amid the stresses of drift testing, they've found, er, some common ground (nudge wink).
> 
> Evelyn (Evie) Nakano: Age 18, British-Japanese, another candidate of Class 2020-A. Despite disliking Chuck, she tested as potentially compatible with both him and Herc. She passed the second cut as partner to Danny Oliver.


	25. Variable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herc and Chuck face an entirely new opponent in the court of public opinion, and even as they move closer to being confirmed as Striker Eureka's pilots, the past lurks both in and out of the drift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** _ _Many thanks to all of you for the wonderful feedback! Please keep it coming! For anyone who's wondering, the revelation about Scott that Stacker passes along to Herc isn't canon, just a headcanon of mine._

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Variable**

_Late May 2020…  
Jaeger Academy, Anchorage, Alaska…_

**_Veteran Ranger Hercules Hansen to Pilot Australia's Mark-5 Jaeger with Teenaged Son!_ **

Chuck swallowed hard and tapped the headline to open the article.

_A sixteen-year-old will be the co-pilot of Australia's $150 Billion Jaeger, according to sources within the Pan Pacific Defense Corps. Even the most enthusiastic supporters of the Jaeger Program are baffled at the decisions that could have led the Jaeger Academy to assign a dangerous and increasingly-deadly vehicle to an underage boy._

His heart sank, and then he looked up and glared at his old man. "You may as well say you told me so; I can bloody hear it in the ghost drift."

"I doubt that, because that's not what I was thinking," Herc replied, all steady elder wisdom. "Truth be told, that it might be _bad_ PR didn't really occur to me much." He shook his head. "It probably should have. I never was much good with that sort of thing."

Chuck was vaguely surprised that Ketteridge and his supporters hadn't talked about that possibility, especially in light of how mad Herc had been. Had they considered it either? Would they still have let Chuck try for Striker if they had? Did Herc wish he'd blown the whistle on them and Chuck after all?

His old man rubbed the bridge of his nose, not looking at him. Chuck sensed the tension through the ghost drift, the doubt… but also resolve. He braced himself and waited.

Herc spoke slowly, his gaze distant as if he was still working out where he stood on the matter. "If this is still what you want… if you're still in, then I'm still in. It's your decision, and I'll back you to anyone who says you haven't proven your right to make it for yourself. We still have to finish placating the psychs and get through actual testing in the mech, months more of training before he's ready to launch. But if we do, I'll support your readiness to deploy."

Chuck stared at him in shock. Unable to find anything to say, he looked down at the tablet again and read the rest of the article.

_Dr. Olivia Morton, Administrator of Family Housing Education in the Sydney Shatterdome, expressed deep concern. "Charles Hansen is a troubled young man," she told the Associated Press. "His father neglects him, his uncle - well, I'm not at liberty to discuss what kind of man his uncle is. He's had all manner of behavioral problems, no doubt due to his mother's death and the trauma he sustained from Scissure. His father should be getting him intensive therapy, not putting him in control of a walking weapon!"_

"Bitch," Chuck muttered. He looked nervously at Herc. "She doesn't like you."

"Oh, I noticed that a long time ago," his old man replied. He brushed a hand across the tablet like sweeping dust away. "Stop cringing. I read it. There's nothing in there that I wasn't expecting, from Morton or any of the others." He frowned to himself, then snorted. "And since when is she a doctor?"

Chuck couldn't keep the smirk off his face.

* * *

As they'd hoped, their final simulator run in Manila against Meathead wasn't as hard as Scissure had been. It was them, after all, not Scott, and they were getting better at staying away from those rabbits. Meathead did give them a pounding; the bloody thing was still a Category IV, and now they were taking him on alone instead of as part of a team.

But they won. They bloody well _won._

For any other Jaeger, taking that gigantic thing on solo, would probably have had a serious problem. But if the simulator response was anything to go by, Striker would maneuver faster than any other mech in existence, even the smaller, lighter Shaolin Rogue. Not that Herc would have objected to having the "Jaeger Wasp" and that nice long stinger of his to help out, but maybe another time.

" _First order of business, get rid of that tail barb!_ " Mock-LOCCENT urged.

"If we open up the chest on him straight off, think we can stun him long enough?" asked Chuck.

Herc agreed. " _Just_ six. Unless we nail him straight through the eyes, we won't kill him straight out. Save the rest of the ammo."

"Won't fire 'till I see the whites of his eyes," Chuck muttered. "Closing..." Herc forced his attention to stay on the kaiju's nasty face, not letting himself see or hear anything else. _Not real_. "Firing in three...two...one..."

Meathead roared and blundered backwards as anti-kaiju missiles bombarded him in the face, and Herc and Chuck were already charging. " _Watch the back legs!_ " mock-LOCCENT warned.

"Got an idea!" Instead of dodging around the kaiju as initially planned, Chuck spotted their avenue as Meathead thrashed and ducked, trying to shield its face and clear its vision.

_Yes!_ They slashed at his thick neck with one of their blades, but instead of around, pushed themselves up and _over_ him. They didn't have quite the balance that Crimson Typhoon did, but they weren't aiming for a handstand, just the quickest route over the huge beast's body to its tail. Herc was using his hand to push off Meathead's shoulder, and Chuck was already focused on the tail. He caught it as the barb came at them, and Herc swung around even as they slid down their quarry's back and hacked into it.

The barb fell into the water in three good slices. They switched hands and Chuck tore into the tail further down like he was chopping a tree until another sizeable segment was gone. They jumped free and were already waiting when Meathead rallied and came at them.

"He's shaking his ass like he's still got a tail to use!"

"Eyes up front, kid!"

In the end, with the kaiju trying to pin them down so he could gnaw their head off, they took a page from the Vulcan Specter School of Kaiju Surgery and used their sling blades to slash open his mid section, then sent another missile barrage into the wounds. Even that didn't quite finish the bastard, but left him incapacitated enough that they could be almost delicate about finding where the skull met the neck and putting their last ammunition into the spinal cord.

"We need a cauterizer," Chuck complained as they washed the Blue off. "We could stop all this leaking into the Bay if we had one."

" _Put it on your birthday list, son_ ," suggested Zeke Amarok, who must have slipped into the simulator lab to watch.

Herc grinned, and couldn't deny that the smugness washing through the drift was partly his own as the simulator delivered their score - a personal best.

That would show them. (Well, that was definitely Chuck.)

As they powered down, memories floated around the drift, and Herc scowled involuntarily as he caught what was on Chuck's mind: the kid was still fuming over that article. In particular, Olivia Morton, with her overly-patient voice and condescending smile when she'd talked to Chuck, and a different face altogether when she talked about his dad.

_"Hercules Hansen should be looking after his son now and then! How am I supposed to treat this student's condition when his father is too busy doing press conferences?"_

_"I'm really at a loss on how he gets these high scores. He obviously didn't get his intelligence from his father."_

_"Was his mother the same, or did a classy girl marry another lowlife boy?_ "

_Shit!_ Chuck flinched and yanked at Herc in the drift. _We're gonna have the psychs on us if you go out of alignment now, old man!_

_Don't call me that,_ Herc thought crossly. At least Chuck would know it wasn't him Herc was feeling cross at. The arrogant bitch with her degrees and her books had sneered every time she saw Herc in person, and then wondered why he wasn't interested in parent-teacher meetings with her.

And somehow, despite seeing more of her than he ever did of Herc on any given day - or week - or month - Chuck had never bought into Morton's view of his father. Even when he was angriest at his dad, he'd bristled hearing the teacher's snide remarks.

_"Maybe I should get a better example to follow than my old man, but Miss Priss Morton's not it,_ " he'd once said.

_HEY!_

_Sorry,_ Herc thought, and shook his head, making himself refocus on the techs through the window until the neural handshake powered down. To his intense relief, the Psych Analysts were no longer watching the real-time feed and busy doing their own calculations and focusing on the readouts from the fight itself.

"Nice moves, boys," said Sergio, leaning against the lab wall next to Zeke and Ilisapie. "I expect you to challenge the Chinese to a breakdancing competition after you launch."

Chuck made a pleased noise, and Herc groaned loudly. "Give him ideas, why don't you?"

Coming out of the prep area after de-suiting, they found Danny Oliver and Evie Nakano waiting for them. "Nice run," said Evie.

Danny had a tablet with the story where Morton had been quoted. "Before you went on, I just wanted to be sure you'd seen this."

"We have, yeah, but thanks," said Herc. "You two up for another sim tonight?"

They nodded. "My turn on the hot seat," said Evie. "I'm assuming it's kaiju-in-London time."

"Really?" asked Chuck.

"Oh, yeah, they've got a few non-Pacific scenarios," Herc confirmed.

Evie rolled her eyes. "Completely unrealistic if people are running and screaming in the streets like everywhere else. Don't they know we British keep calm and carry on?"

"And serve tea," Danny added, elbowing her lightly in the ribs.

"Of course."

"Sure, you'll all just carry on to the tea shops when a kaiju's attacking instead of going to the shelters," said Chuck. "The British never hurry anywhere."

They straightened up as Stacker Pentecost came into the room, but to Herc's amusement, he addressed Chuck. "You're mistaken, Mr. Hansen. We're quite serious about punctuality. Should a kaiju arrive in London, we would carry our tea in take-away cups to the shelters."

Evie grinned and gave him a salute in the UK style rather than PPDC standard (which was based on the Americans'.) Herc was still more amused to see him return it automatically. _Note to self: text that to Tamsin. She'll give him hell._

"Excuse us," Stacker told Evie and Danny, and beckoned Chuck and Herc into the nearest conference room.

Herc could feel Chuck's heart starting to pound through the ghost drift. "Are we still fast-tracking or is the UN now having second thoughts?"

The Stacker Pentecost who had shocked Herc by nearly breaking down in March was well-hidden again, and only the faintest quirk of the man's lips, the slightest narrowing of his eyes betrayed anything of his attitude. "The position of the UN, Secretary General Krieger, and Marshal Ketteridge remains as it has been: that you and Candidate Hansen should proceed as long as you meet the requisites for piloting. And by any measurement, you have met every requirement," he added, nodding to Chuck.

Herc supposed it would be unfair to be annoyed with his boy for the tension churning in his stomach, even if it felt like he was about to develop a vicarious ulcer. Stacker turned to him and concluded, "Their concern is that _you_ may still harbor some doubts... and say as much to the media."

Chuck was developing a damn good poker face; his expression _almost_ didn't change despite the anxiety surging through his insides that Herc couldn't escape, thanks to the ghost drift. But Herc had already made his mind up, and held to what he'd told the kid the day before: "I won't. We've already talked. So long as we keep meeting the marks - without the goals getting moved closer - I'm in. He meets the marks, he's old enough. I won't undermine it." _Unlike Olivia Morton._

He sensed Chuck's frustration. The kid wanted him to give more ground than that, but he'd just have to live with it. Ketteridge and his cronies had undermined _him_ , mucked around with his kid back when Chuck had still been just his kid, and Herc was not about to forgive or forget that. He wasn't stupid enough to declare war. He'd follow orders and do his duty, but he wasn't ever going to consider Ketteridge or Krieger friends, or confide in them when he didn't have to.

Apparently, Stacker still trusted him a long way, because he didn't ask for clarification or confirmation, just took Herc at his word. "There is something else, but I thought you might want to hear it alone."

Chuck's near-panic slammed into Herc's awareness, and this time, Herc did flinch and glare at the kid. "We _drift_ ," his son protested tightly. Chuck couldn't even work out what this news might be, only jump to the conclusion that it must be about him.

Stacker replied, "Even so, Candidate, there will be conversations that you are _each_ entitled to have as individuals first. I'm extending to Ranger Hansen the same courtesy that should be extended to you for something that involves your personal lives."

Now Chuck was just confused, but Herc sighed and shook his head. "It doesn't matter. You can say it in front of him, whatever it is." Even assuming Chuck didn't get the whole thing straight from their ghost drift, they might as well get any reactions out of the way now.

Stacker still hesitated. "It's about your brother."

Now Herc had no idea whose stomach had turned to lead first. He just nodded. _Get on with it._

"I wanted to let you know that along with the media's discovery of your new co-pilot's age, there is also a great deal of interest in what exactly happened to the previous one. Records of his trial and sentence have been sealed, but media outlets are offering large rewards for information. It _will_ eventually get out. Suggestions have been made that you should make a statement - " he raised a hand to forestall the furious reactions from Herc _and_ Chuck, " - but the majority of public relations staff are in agreement that it won't deter the muckrakers, so there's no need to put you through that."

Herc was disgusted with himself for having to look away, but he couldn't take Stacker's gaze _or_ his kid's for a minute longer. Stacker paused, then went on. "We're doing all we can to deter it, but in all realism, sooner or later you or your son will be ambushed. Should that happen, no matter the circumstances, you're entitled to refuse to comment, and if the questioner persists, you can leave the area and have the questioner removed."

"What the hell could they ambush him with?" Chuck mumbled. "Pictures?"

"Possibly." Stacker fell silent again for a long moment, then said, "Candidate, please step out for a moment."

"But - "

" - It's _fine,_ " Herc croaked, hoping his rough voice just sounded impatient.

But this time, Stacker held firm. "It's not. Give us a moment. In fact, I'd as soon ask you not to go far, but I would rather explain this in private."

Chuck didn't go, and when Herc turned around, his son was looking at him for direction. But as much as Herc didn't care - at least, didn't think he did - what Chuck learned now about Scott, obviously Stacker wasn't comfortable discussing it in front of an audience. So he nodded towards the door, and after another long stare, the kid went.

To Herc's surprise, Chuck didn't go far, just paced down the hall.

"Well?"

Now Stacker had dropped a little of his reserve, and he looked tired... and disgusted. "This... detail wasn't of much consequence to the investigators because it was so _very_ easy to debunk," he explained. "But I was concerned about the effect it might have on you if you were ambushed with it." Herc frowned. "Early on... during the initial questioning, your brother... attempted to implicate you in the assaults."

Herc blinked. "Huh?"

He was still trying to wrap his head around that when Stacker went on in something like a rush. "It _was_ easily disproven, Herc. DNA evidence and witnesses put Scott at the scene, and eyewitness and camera evidence put you among others in both cases. It was a desperate, stupid effort by a weak, cowardly man, and even his appointed defenders recognized that. They didn't try to raise it during his trial, but it is still in the interrogation records."

His brain was starting to feel like his body sometimes did after hours in the conn-pod: heavy and immersed in cement. It was embarrassing, how long it took him to comprehend what Pentecost was saying.

_Scott tried to tell them..._ I _did it?_ Something bubbled inside him...it rose up his throat and escaped, a noise he couldn't stifle even as he jammed his fist into his teeth... but he couldn't hold it back, and finally gave up. He was laughing. _There you are, Chuck. This is how it feels when your drift partner goes off the deep end._

Stacker kept his cool, finally loosening up as though Herc's shaking shoulders and stupid grin were a reaction he was glad to see. At Herc's vague gesture at the door, he went, and Chuck nearly bowled him over rushing back in.

"Whaddid - what'd he...Dad?" Chuck shoved the door closed and looked incredulously from Herc to Stacker and back. "He tried to... _pin_ it on you?"

Stacker raised his eyebrows at Chuck. "You caught it all?"

"I think so." At Herc's nod of confirmation (he was still laughing quietly), Chuck shook his head. "Hell, and we really thought he'd sunk as low as anyone could ever go." He looked at Herc, not sure whether to be amused or alarmed by the fact that he was still laughing. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Herc finally managed to get a grip and wiped his eyes. After a few deep breaths, he could talk again without breaking into snickers. "If reporters ask me anything about him - ever... 'No comment, take it up with the press office.' That good enough for the brass?"

"I think that is precisely what they're hoping for," said Stacker. "And I agree it would make things simplest for you. Candidate Hansen?"

"Works for me. If they ask anything about... me, I reckon I'll just..." Chuck pondered it. "Do I ever have to talk to them?"

"Closer to launch, after we're finalized, assuming the launch pageantry's still in the plan," mused Herc.

"As far as I know, it is," Stacker confirmed. "You are very close to being declared Ranger Ready. The current remaining question is whether you should begin logging time in Brawler Yukon or in Striker Eureka."

Herc lost the remains of his weird humor. "We need to do one or the other before they make the final assignment." To forestall Chuck getting bent out of shape, he explained, "The real thing will never be exactly like the simulator. Especially not the newest Jaeger designed. Have us start with the Mark-5 if they're sure they want us there, but no calling us Ranger Ready until we've met the standards." He felt Chuck mulling over that, but after a few moments, the kid gave a curt nod in agreement.

"Most of the tacticians favor having you log all your third-term time in Striker Eureka," said Stacker. "They agree with you on the timing, but especially if you're working out of the Brisbane Assembly Facility, you'll be the only team using their testing grounds, and that will make it easiest to practice. It will also free up Kodiak for Tacit Ronin and Horizon Brave, since they need more post-refit testing."

"Right, then," Chuck muttered. "It's a fair point, y'know. We've done sim runs in the other mechs. They're a lot different from Striker. What's to be gained training in a mech we won't use?"

"Experience," said Herc - in chorus with Stacker, this time. Chuck cracked a grin at that. "Newer models may be different, but they're all based on that first design for Brawler, each one building variations on the next. Especially if you've got damage or a malfunction, knowing _exactly_ how the other marks handled, and how to handle them in emergencies, might just save your life."

"Has Brisbane got a simulator?" Chuck asked. Stacker nodded. "So we could still run sims on the other models."

Stacker raised his eyebrows at Herc. "Shall I tell Command that your preference is Brisbane?"

Herc shrugged. "Works for me."

"I'll pass that along." Stacker rubbed his eyes, then looked between the two of them.

"How soon do we get a decision?" Chuck asked.

"Soon. The Academy Board meets today and will confirm its recommendation to the commanding officers for whether the three remaining teams should all proceed. Given that we currently have only three Jaegers likely to be pilot-ready in the near-future, there is sound reasoning to proceed with assignments."

"No more Mark-5's, then?"

Herc's heart sank at the look on Stacker's face. He felt Chuck's shock at the brief, intense emotion there. Stacker hid it again so fast that the boy might have assumed he'd imagined it, but for Herc's awareness coming through the ghost drift. "Unlikely."

Herc looked at Chuck and made a quick gesture with his head towards the door. _Privacy again, but not for me this time._ His son got the message and nodded, letting himself out. "Payback?" he guessed.

"Possibly. No doubt they would like me to think so." Stacker closed his eyes, revealing the exhaustion that he'd kept firmly hidden in front of Chuck. Not that Chuck wouldn't see it sooner or later in the drift, they both knew, but it was another thing to show weakness in person. Both Herc and Chuck would let a man have his pride.

_Bastards._ "But Raleigh and Duc. They'll be safe?"

Stacker nodded. "Duc hasn't made his announcement yet. He has an idea of the right timing. Raleigh has... kept his word. An old friend of mine is keeping tabs on him. He doesn't realize that, but if he's ever in trouble, he will not be unprotected."

"Good," Herc breathed. He leaned toward Stacker. "If the price for more Mark-5's was dragging every decommissioned Ranger on tour until they're dead, then it really was too damned high."

"Considering that even before Knifehead, we were struggling to fund the repairs to Diablo Intercept and Silver Lion... in all realism, refusing to give Raleigh and Duc to them as figureheads didn't deprive us of any Mark-5's." Stacker gave Herc a thin, bitter smile. "Or so I keep reminding myself."

"You should. You're the one whose word I'll take."

"You're in the minority, Herc." Stacker blinked, then looked away, as if he hadn't meant to say that out loud. Herc scowled and folded his arms, daring the man to try to end the conversation without explaining that, so Stacker came out with it. "Most Rangers and crew believe what I wanted them to believe: that I dismissed Raleigh from the Corps and abandoned him. They see no more reason to trust me than Krieger."

Herc pondered that, frustrated. Was there really no alternative that would keep Raleigh off the grid _and_ let Stacker keep the respect he deserved among the crews? Herc was no grand strategist, not on the skill level of Stacker or Sasha Kaidanovsky.

At length, he said quietly, "We've all taken a lot of hits, these last few years. We know there'll be more to come, and even the Rangers who don't know the facts about Raleigh will see who has their backs and who doesn't." He considered the Corps gossip he'd heard. Yeah, a lot of it was less than understanding towards Pentecost, but nobody was inclined to trust Krieger or the other brass who kept backing the publicity campaigns either. "You're resigning your command after this term. Their choice or yours?"

"Mutual. Marshal Gagnon persuaded me to call it a sabbatical, but I can't imagine being approved to resume any command post after this." Stacker met his eyes again. "Of course, I'll be here for any Ranger or officer who needs help, whether from office or from Hawaii. If I can only do it unofficially... so be it. It's a price I was always prepared to pay."

* * *

_June 1, 2020…  
Jaeger Academy, Kodiak Island, Alaska…_

From what Chuck had heard, the semi-official "graduation ceremony" for the Ranger Ready teams usually took place at the end of the third term, after everyone had completed logging their first block of time in an actual Jaeger. Sometimes assignment of a team wouldn't happen until months later, when the new Jaeger was pilot-ready for testing.

Class 2020-A was different. Marshal Gagnon and Marshal Pentecost informed the three teams that each of them would be assigned a different Jaeger to start testing. "Ranger Hansen and Mr. Hansen will be transferring to Brisbane for testing with Striker Eureka. Mr. Oliver and Miss Nakano will begin maneuvers here in Anchorage in Tacit Ronin. Miss Po and Mr. Shen will begin test maneuvers in Hong Kong with Horizon Brave."

It was actually Xichi and Lo Hin who betrayed the most emotion. Everyone had picked up on the gossip that Horizon would be reassigned relatively quickly, and assignment to a pair of strong-performing Chinese nationals would be ideal. But this was the first official confirmation. It had to feel... weird, knowing they were now stepping in to replace two beloved Rangers only a few months after their deaths in their own mech. Chuck didn't consider himself superstitious, and had no idea if Xichi or Lo Hin were... but that made him feel a little shaky, he had to admit.

Evie and Danny had never met the Jessops, but were reverent and moved to see Duc Jessop among the few Rangers in attendance. "It's a good match," he told them with a warm smile. "Take care of her."

"We will, sir," Evie murmured. "Thank you."

_It'll be like with Cerastes,_ Chuck thought. _Tacit Ronin's next kill will be for them. Horizon'll take out more kaiju for the Lis._ Silver Lion and Diablo Intercept were still in refit, but rumor had it they would relaunch too. All their new Rangers would make the bastards pay for all the Rangers who'd come before.

Herc and Chuck... well, maybe no personal predecessors to avenge, far from it. Chuck hadn't seen much of the Blancos, but still, they'd been his dad's Dome-mates, if only briefly. They'd stood guard for Australia and died fighting Vaulimi.

_For them. For my Mum, Danny's sister, and everyone else who died in Sydney. When I'm in Striker, I'll make the bastards pay._

The PPDC was releasing only a brief statement to a small cluster of reporters, and to Chuck's guilty relief, most of the press got side-tracked when Duc Jessop announced the end of his media and teaching tour. "I'm afraid that for health reasons, this will be the end of my appearances."

Low murmurs of shock rippled through the press room, and Chuck was intrigued to see some of the reporters looking stricken, as if they could read between the lines that Duc Jessop's health was failing. All the reporters had their hands up, and Duc called on one. "Ms. Sokolov?"

She gave him a sad smile. "Would you care to comment on the reassignment of Tacit Ronin, Ranger Jessop?"

"Certainly. I chose this time to retire because I've seen for myself that my Jaeger and her country will be in good hands. I've been one of her new crew's instructors, and Mr. Oliver and Ms. Nakano have my blessing and approval, as do the other two crews."

"Have there been any comments by the Japanese government?" asked another.

"Indeed. They consider it auspicious. One Australian citizen and one Japanese. There's well-known precedent."

A Japanese PPDC official stepped forward. "As the daughter of a Japanese national born on foreign soil, Miss Nakano would ordinarily have to elect Japanese citizenship and resign her British nationality before age twenty-two. However, the Ministry of Justice has approved a special exception for PPDC personnel to retain dual nationality, in recognition of their service."

As Chuck half-anticipated, half-feared, attention did eventually turn to him and Herc. "Ranger Hansen, did you approve your sixteen-year-old son's application to the Jaeger Academy?"

Herc must have been expecting it, and answered without hesitating. "Yes."

"How soon might Striker Eureka go into combat?"

Marshal Gagnon stepped in. "That still depends on the progress of test maneuvers, which haven't yet started. _Candidate_ Hansen was permitted to participate in _training_ at the Academy, and as you all know from the Jaeger Program's statistics, it will be months before Striker Eureka is deemed ready for launch, and could still be years before it sees combat."

"Even though the Mark-5 project is already nearly $50 billion over budget?" someone asked, sounding scornful.

Gagnon stared the questioner down. "Whether or not you can establish that any part of the project's budget has been used wastefully, I don't think anyone could deny the _entire_ budget would be wasted if the Jaeger and its pilots were destroyed because they were rushed into combat unprepared. Jaegers and their Rangers have always been and will always necessarily be a long-term project."

All six candidates breathed sighs of relief once the reporters were ushered out (still calling out questions every step of the way.) "You think that was bad, just wait until launch," Ranger Flint told them. Danny Oliver groaned.

Chuck dared a look at some of the media discussion on his tablet, then tossed it aside in disgust. "Don't do that, Chuck. It's not worth the heartburn," said Ranger Amarok, giving him a knowing grin.

"That bad?" asked Xichi.

" _'You know we're in trouble when they're recruiting kids who aren't old enough to drriiive_ ,'" Chuck mimicked, flipping the tablet off.

Herc held out his own. "If it makes you feel any better, we got this from Sarla Johar back in Sydney."

It was one of Sarla's drawings. Chuck had mumbled the obligatory, "nice work" when she presented something to Herc and Scott or Devi and Susanti, but hadn't really had much use for it. Here was one he hadn't seen before. Maybe she'd done it after he'd left for Academy.

It was Max, looking more ferocious than he ever did in real life, with a bomb between his jaws. Chuck found himself grinning. "Looks like a logo." _I did say we should have Max as our mascot._

Herc was on to him. His old man might have already thought of it. "We'll have to ask her if she minds this on Striker's shoulder. And on our jackets."

Chuck swallowed against a sudden tightness in his throat. Damn. "Yeah. When we get home."

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** Herc and Chuck leave behind a Jaeger Academy changed forever by the events of early 2020. In Australia, they reunite with their Shatterdome-mates and have a long-awaited first glimpse of Striker Eureka in **Chapter Twenty-Six: Reunions and Introductions!**_
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Olivia Morton: Licensed on-site teacher for the children of Sydney Shatterdome's family housing. Late 20s, with several degrees but little practical experience, she didn't think much of the Hansens - and they knew it.
> 
> Daniel (Danny) Oliver: Age 17, son of support chopper pilot Greg Oliver, survived Scissure along with his little sister, Emma. He began applying to the Jaeger Program two years before, and has finally been admitted to Class 2020-A along with Chuck. The two boys clashed frequently in the Shatterdome, but amid the stresses of drift testing, they've found, er, some common ground (nudge wink).
> 
> Evelyn (Evie) Nakano: Age 18, British-Japanese, another candidate of Class 2020-A. Despite disliking Chuck, she tested as potentially compatible with both him and Herc. She passed the second cut as partner to Danny Oliver.


	26. Opening Maneuvers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ch. 26: Herc and Chuck leave behind a Jaeger Academy forever changed and reunite with their Shatterdome-mates in Australia - but even as they begin testing Striker Eureka, public pressure against a 16-year-old piloting a Jaeger is growing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Note:** This update comes to you a wee bit early, since I anticipate getting slammed with work through the weekend, and had a lull today before the storm! As a reminder, when Herc and Chuck are drifting, POV may get a little muddled and shift back and forth between them, because that's how I imagine the drift feels.  
> _

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Opening Maneuvers**

_Jaeger Academy, Kodiak Island, Alaska…  
June 1, 2020…_

"You think this is goodbye?" Danny Oliver wondered late that night.

Chuck and Evie had finally managed a standard-form, boy-girl tumble without either of them losing their shit a few weeks before, but tonight the three of them got up the nerve to try that three-way experiment. It… had gone a lot better than Chuck anticipated.

"No way to know," he said, nudging the older bloke aside to get his proper share of Evie's bed. "Assuming none of us fucks up test maneuvers, we'll start team simulations. Or get reassigned to different Domes depending who's short. How's your Japanese?"

"Improving, thanks to her," said Danny, petting the half-asleep Evie. "We're both working on our Korean too, since we may end up in a Shatterdome with Nova Hyperion or Katana Eagle."

"Japanese _and_ Korean?" Chuck had been working on Mandarin for four years and still had to do a fair amount of pantomiming. He couldn't imagine keeping two languages straight at the same time.

But Danny shrugged. "Grammar's easy, especially when the rules are alike. French and German was hard."

That was not something Chuck had expected out of Danny Oliver, but now that he thought about it, another reason he and the older boy hadn't sat many satellite classes together was Danny'd been taking a bunch of non-tech electives. "I never knew 'till now you were a cunning linguist."

"Oh, really, mate, I've never heard that one before - "

" – we're _not_ mates!" they finished in a hissed chorus. Danny had to bury his face in his knees to muffle his snickers so he didn't wake Evie.

"We're frenemies with benefits," Danny concluded, and this time they did wake Evie up with their laughing.

"Shuddup, will you?" she mumbled.

Chuck rolled his eyes. "She had two blokes tonight and both of us got her off. What's she complaining about?"

* * *

_Anchorage, Alaska…  
June 1, 2020…_

Herc spent the last night in Alaska on the mainland at a pub near the Shatterdome with the other pilots and J-Tech crew. The hale and hearty ones, anyway.

He wished Duc Jessop hadn't already left for Whistler, but sadly supposed his friend wouldn't be up to it anyway. Stacker Pentecost didn't come either, and a lot of the crew who did would probably have refused if Pentecost had been there. So that made it just Herc, Caitlin, and Sergio from the old crowd, with Herc the one remaining active pilot from that old "class" of 2015.

_Chin up, Hercules. It's not the end of the world._ Here were two more sets: Ilisapie Flint and Zeke Amarok with their Mark-3, Chrome Brutus, and Juliette and Nathan Girard with their Mark-4, Cascade Victor. If all went well, Herc and his boy would pilot the Mark-5. And maybe Stacker and the others were wrong. Maybe the political climate would shift again after a few more good fights like the one against Cerastes last month, and they would end up with more Mark-5's.

"We've still got good public opinion in our favor," Jasper Schoenfeld was saying. "The Buenakai got busted trying to break into the cleanup vault where they were dissecting Cerastes the other night."

"I hadn't heard about that," said Herc, gesturing to the bartender for another beer. "What're they trying to do, put the things back together?"

Tendo Choi snorted. "Nah, they put pieces under glass on altars in their temples and slobber over them." He smirked. "A mob chased them out of the cleanup zone in Vancouver last year. They showed up in their robes with their incense. Then they sued to have the site declared a sacred burial ground under the Indigenous Heritage Protection Act."

"There is _nothing_ indigenous about the Buenakai," Ilisapie growled.

"Maybe next time you have an engagement in Los Angeles, someone can accidentally knock their temple over," suggested Tendo.

"Don't give them ideas!" exclaimed Jasper Schoenfeld, but he was grinning.

Herc affected innocence. "Sorry, Marshals, no idea how that happened!" They all chortled. " _Definitely_ don't tell Bruce and Trevin. They'd take it as a challenge."

Giggling, Caitlin already had her phone out - then her face changed. "What?" asked Ilisapie.

Sergio looked over her shoulder and winced, then put his arm around her. "Cait, what?" Jasper demanded.

It was Sergio who answered. "Hayase Shindo."

It was all the answer they needed. "Damn," Tendo muttered, shutting his eyes. Juliette turned to the bartender, but the bloke was on the ball, already bringing refills around.

"We knew it was coming," Caitlin said roughly after a long swallow.

The others nodded, hanging onto what scant shreds of comfort they could find in it. They were still digesting it when the TVs in the bar began running the breaking news story of the former Ranger's death. "I can turn those off," the bartender offered. Sergio nodded, mumbling thanks.

The rest of the bar patrons exchanged looks, awkwardly pondering the Jaeger pilots and probably debating whether they should offer condolences (nobody complained about the TVs going silent.)

No good would've come from Hayase lingering on. It'd been over a year since Jiro died, to say nothing of the agony the radiation exposure had put them both through. Finally, she was out of her pain. _But that's another one gone. How long until the next?_ Best case scenario, it'd be Duc Jessop. Worst case... it would be someone else they weren't expecting.

Herc didn't know how long Tendo Choi had known the Tidal Dragon pilots, or maybe he hadn't. It might just be memory that was hitting the former Gipsy Danger crew so hard. Herc raised his pint to the others. "Here's to absent friends."

Along with the Rangers and crew at the pub, he noticed that every civilian in earshot raised their glasses as well.

* * *

The sun was already up in the wee hours when they headed back to Shatterdome and Academy, but Tendo surprised Herc by coming after him. "Hey... Herc, can I ask a favor?"

"Of course," he said, turning around curiously.

Tendo held up a small cardboard box. "I, uh... you and Chuck will be back in Australia... when you get there, when you next see Devi and Susanti... would you give this to them?"

No need to ask what was inside. Tendo had been distributing little mementos from Team Gipsy to the personnel all over the bases. He'd sent the Tunaris and Team Hydra Corinthian home from Yancy's funeral with boxes too.

Herc made himself smile. "No problem, mate. I'll get it to them as soon as we're there."

"And..." Tendo's smile was a little shaky, and they both focused their attention on what he pulled from his pocket. "For you."

It was a little Lucky Seven. Not one of the regular action figures, even smaller, from some model set that Team Gipsy's crew had toted around. It looked like the one of Coyote Tango that Stacker'd been holding when Herc got the real story of Raleigh's departure from him. _So that's what cracked him. I don't bloody blame him. How'd we end up losing so many kids?_

Not really, if he thought about it objectively... Jiro and Hayase Shindo and Jing and Min Li had been close to Herc's age, Miguel and Maria Blanco had been in their thirties, and Yan-Jie and Fang the same age as the twins and the D'onofrios. Even Yancy Becket hadn't been all that young.

Well, Herc wasn't in the mood to be objective. They were all too young to die. _To say nothing of Chuck..._ "What about you?" he croaked desperately. "You staying in Anchorage or off to another Shatterdome?"

"For now, I'll stay put," said Tendo, looking relieved to change the subject. "I'll step in wherever they need LOCCENT techs. It may mean moving. Cascade and Chrome are fully staffed, but it depends on who shuffles where."

Herc shrugged. "Well, whether it's Chuck and me or another team, Striker'll need a LOCCENT staff soon enough."

Tendo grinned, then feigned alarm. "Dunno, 'mate,' I hear everything in Australia's trying to eat you! Kaiju are bad enough!"

"It's all true. All of it," Herc deadpanned. They both laughed, and went on their way feeling a little less beaten down.

* * *

Chuck wondered at his own melancholy and anxiety on the flight back across the Pacific. He couldn't figure any reason to feel this way. He was getting everything he'd wanted - a chance to pilot a Jaeger, the newest and best. He'd gotten epically laid last night.

It could be the things the media were saying, calling him a child soldier and his potential deployment a crime. But the brass were standing by him. Even his old man wasn't speaking against it anymore.

He would see Max again, and Herc hadn't made any more noise about rehoming Max either. Surely Max wouldn't have forgotten Chuck in just six months.

And he'd be back with Team Vulcan, not just as one of the Shatterdome kids anymore. A fellow Ranger - _if_ he didn't fuck it up. Or as long as his old man didn't fuck it up.

Devi, Susanti, and Indra's emails had contained nothing but praise and encouragement. Sure, they'd been shocked back in December, but he thought that had been because Herc had thrown such a fit. They were in Brisbane now while Vulcan was getting repaired, visiting with their family. They'd be the first team that Striker Eureka trained with once Chuck and his old man were cleared for launch.

_If_ they were cleared for launch, as Herc would be the first to remind him.

Chuck had no reason to feel nervous about seeing the Hassans again.

He could admit some pangs of dismay saying goodbye to Xichi and Lo Hin, who were off to Hong Kong, and Evie and Danny, since they'd be staying in Anchorage working with Tacit Ronin. They were his classmates, more or less his contemporaries, and it did feel a bit weird to split up before the last term was over. Nothing wrong with admitting that.

He definitely wasn't in a mood because he'd miss Danny Oliver or Evie Nakano, however entertaining (and instructive) their extracurricular "studies" had been. Definitely not that.

_"Frenemies with benefits._ " He stifled a laugh remembering that, and quickly checked to make sure Herc was asleep.

* * *

_PPDC Jaeger Assembly Facility, Brisbane, Australia...  
June 3, 2020…_

They'd brought Max with them. Chuck wasn't expecting that, and really hoped nobody noticed the way his face reacted against his will. _Oh shit, get a grip, Hansen, get a bloody grip..._

But Max saw him and went mad, yanking on his leash and nearly pulling Susanti off her feet. Chuck disguised his emotions by breaking into a run; if he was going to blow PPDC officer decorum, he might as well seem overenthusiastic instead of choked up. To his relief, all he could hear from the witnesses were cheers and applause as he focused on wrestling Max to the ground and rubbing him within an inch of its life and getting his face slobbered on.

"And he was worried Max might not remember him," he heard Herc saying.

_Thanks, old man,_ he thought, but couldn't really keep a cross mood. "You been behaving, Handsome? Well, have you?"

"Apart from scratching at the door in Lucky's old bay, he's been an angel," Devi informed him. "On your feet, junior officer! Gimme a hug!"

Chuck jumped up and saluted them first. "Ohh, it is a proper officer and gentleman! How long 'till he ranks us?" Suze wondered, saluting him back, and shoving her sister for her turn. Her embrace was no less tight, and Chuck felt stupid all over again for his drunken conclusion six months ago that Susanti disliked him. The Hassans were among the few people he could really tell himself didn't just put up with him for his dad's sake. Indra tugged Suze away so he could get a turn hugging Chuck next.

But of course, Chuck's old man had to go ruin the moment. Rising from giving Max a scratch of his own, Herc stepped closer to the Hassans and held out a box. "Before we all get swamped... Tendo Choi asked me to give you this. It's... from Team Gipsy."

All three of them froze, and Chuck glared. _Really? Did you have to do it right this bloody second?_ He couldn't have waited until later rather than wreck Chuck's homecoming?

But there was nothing for it now, so he forced an expression of (he hoped) polite sympathy as Indra took the box and opened it. There were several items inside from the look of it, maybe some books, but Chuck's frustration was replaced by shock at the way Devi's face crumbled as she and Suze drew out two little action figures: Vulcan Specter and Gipsy Danger.

"From their table map in the Shatterdome. Everybody got their own mech, but Tendo thought you should have Gipsy. You meant a lot to them."

The sisters stared at their little sister Jaeger, now in their joined hands. Devi shut her eyes and whispered, "We never did get to ride together."

Indra shifted the box into one hand so he could try and get an arm around them both. Herc looked awkwardly at the ground. "Thanks," Suze said roughly, then buried her face in Devi's shoulder.

Chuck just gave up and walked away. The happy part of the reunion was well over.

* * *

Over the next day, Chuck didn't talk to his old man unless he had to while they were getting checked into their shared quarters. The one bright spot was that he could indeed keep Max with him. "He's getting to be the Sydney mascot," Kyrra Taior told them. "Everyone argues over who gets to take him for walks."

"Has Striker got a mascot yet? Or a logo?" Chuck asked.

She grinned, leaning against the corridor wall. "Nope. Ready to meet him?"

It was very hard not to look at his dad or grin like an idiot. Chuck nodded.

Devi and Susanti joined them for the walk down to the huge Jaeger Bay, but didn't go through the final set of doors. "It's tradition," Devi told them. "A Jaeger's own pilots meet him first."

Herc began, "Well, technically, we're not yet - "

" - shut up, Hercules." Susanti pointed imperiously at the doors. "Don't keep your dragon waiting."

Kyrra did go with them, and in the bay, they were met by the Brisbane engineers and Priya Katwal, one of the senior J-Techs from Kodiak Island. But nobody bothered with introductions, which was a good thing, because Chuck couldn't take his eyes off the spectacular figure dominating the assembly bay.

"Behold the Mark-5," said Kyrra. "Striker Eureka."

Chuck could easily have recited every one of Striker's specs from memory. He and Herc had been operating Striker in the simulator almost exclusively for over a month.

_XIG Supercell Chamber energy core, fully digital Arbiter Tac-Conn 12 operating system. Seventy-six meters tall, 1,850 tons. Solid iron hull armor, T-16 Angel Wing shoulder blades, retractable Assault Mount 3.25 titanium sling blades and 4.211 solid iron brass knuckles. WMB2x90 AKM Chest Launch, eighteen-round capacity loaded with K-Stunner rockets. Independent liquid neural hydraulic lines for every limb and joint. Solid iron standing shields for major joints and weapons._

He was even more magnificent in person. Not as tall as some of the older models, but with a well-armored upper torso and flexible legs that would give incredible speed on foot for pursuit on land. In close quarters, his joint shields would protect him from strikes to the knees or elbows like the one that had put Vulcan Specter in the shop.

"Care for a tour?" asked Dr. Katwal. Chuck just nodded.

They walked all the way, eschewing the lifts up each level in favor of the stairs, and took the scenic route back and forth across the catwalks, just to look, to take in every detail from every side they could see.

His name was already engraved on his left chest plate:

_Striker Eureka_  
Commonwealth of Australia  
Launched:

The launch date was still blank. No logo had been added yet either. Chuck mentally projected that image of Max with the bomb in his mouth and smiled to himself. It'd be perfect. They'd have to ask Sarla... somehow, he doubted she'd object.

Their non-instrument peripheral vision was obscured by the high shoulder armor on either side of the conn-pod, which drove them mad in simulations, but looking at Striker in person, Chuck could see the reasoning. It would be damn hard for a kaiju to get its claws, jaws, or a stinger-barb around the pod the way some of them had struck previous mechs, so long as the pilots were capable of doing _something_ in their own defense. The attacks that had taken out Diablo Intercept, Horizon Brave, and Gipsy Danger wouldn't work on Striker Eureka.

_We'll have to overcorrect for recon maneuvers. He can turn almost 360 degrees at the waist. He's also one of the only mechs who can out-and-out_ a complete pile-drive like Chrome Brutus or the light-footed sprint like Shaolin Rogue, but he could go in for a tackle like a rugby player.

Inside the conn-pod didn't look like he expected. It was very different from the simulator lab, more sophisticated looking. "Separately-powered emergency control and comm panels in arm's reach of each rig," said Priya proudly. "Emergency medikits and monitors on both sides, secondary oxygen tanks underneath. Just pull the mask to activate. Auto-jettison escape pod rigs with double-oxygen processors in the lowest part of the skull plating. Emergency supply and escape hatch controls operate on hand-crank and pressure releases even if all power is lost."

Herc was examining the right-hand motion rig, noting that it was older than the one on the left. "This is actually from Lucky Seven," he mused.

"Something borrowed, something blue. It's just the rig skeleton; the hydraulic lines and sensors have been completely replaced so they're identical to the left side, but it is your old rig. It's tradition," Priya explained to Chuck. "Every new pod has something from a Jaeger previously stationed at that Shatterdome."

_Even the ones that crashed?_ Chuck managed not to ask that out loud.

* * *

"While Vulcan's having his knee replacement surgery, we've been appointed your trainers," Devi informed Herc and Chuck in the mess hall that night.

Chuck was pleased, but Herc snorted into his drink. "Can't imagine Ketteridge thought of that."

"He didn't. Technically, you two are still under the Academy's command until you log all your hours and get approved as Ranger Ready. So it was Gagnon and Pentecost's call." Susanti smirked. "Ketteridge made no comments."

"Well, _I've_ got a comment. I seem to remember three years ago, _I_ was training _you_ ," Herc declared. Half the table laughed, the other half scoffed. Chuck was startled, then bitterly observed that nobody else seemed to be. Apparently, Herc Hansen would act the fool to cheer up anyone who wasn't his son.

Even taking their first drift in Striker the next day didn't help to see that Devi and Herc had been talking outside after Chuck had gone to sleep.

_"Did you see Raleigh before he left?_ " _Devi asked Herc, gazing out at the lights of Brisbane._

_"Not after Yancy's funeral. Everything happened pretty fast after that." She'd looked away, scowling, and Herc had guessed what was on her mind. "Dev... there was more to it than anyone realized."_

_That got her attention. "How do you know?"_

_He lowered his voice. "I've known Stacker Pentecost a long time. He didn't do it to be cruel. He didn't want to do it at all."_

_She looked down at the little Gipsy figurine in her hand, stroking it absently with her thumb. Herc wanted to touch her, make her feel better. But he stayed where he was. "What was the alternative to dismissal?"_

_Stacker'd sworn Herc to secrecy. Herc understood the reason... but Stacker had already brought the Hassans in on one critical piece of information that most Rangers didn't know. Carefully, Herc reminded her. "Remember when he and I called? Before the funeral?" Devi nodded. "You and Suze said him as my partner would be wrong - you were right," he added quickly. "But the problem was still there: keeping the brass from making him a sideshow."_

_She considered that, pulling her jacket tighter in the brisk air. They'd gone from winter ending in Alaska to winter starting in Australia. Still, at least it wasn't as cold as the Icebox. Nowhere was as cold as the Icebox._

_"We wondered... why the press didn't go mad over this."_

_"The press wasn't told the reason for the discharge. They assume it was medical, like Duc Jessop. And if the brass wants to prevent that scandal, they'll leave Raleigh alone."_

_In the glow of base lights and city lights, Herc could see the glitter of tears on her face, but pretended he didn't notice. "I don't like it. Him alone out there."_

_"It's what he wanted. You said it yourself to me: he deserves his freedom." He wanted to tell her Stacker knew Raleigh was safe, but he didn't. Stacker had done what he'd done so the Corps' blame would be drawn on himself rather than Raleigh. He didn't tell her that either. This would have to be enough; Stacker had given his implied consent to dropping enough hints to the Hassans to keep them from taking it into their head to search for him._

_Devi was crying. He'd never seen her cry until today. After stewing over it for a few more minutes, he cautiously put a hand on her shoulder. She covered it with hers, and finally turned around and leaned into his chest. He patted her back, but didn't hold her tighter... even though he wanted to. "I'm sorry, Dev. I know what they meant to you. They deserved better than for it to end like that."_

_Breathing heavily, she stepped away and wiped her face. "I know, every Ranger we've ever lost did, it's just... damn it. Yancy was... he was always a bit older than he seemed. Raleigh... he's a kid, Herc. He's still just a kid!_ "

_"I know what you mean about kids, love. Believe me, I know._ "

Chuck scowled and focused rigidly on the HUD as the drift surged with Herc's embarrassed dismay. _You're full of shit, old man - no. We've got a job to do._ They refocused on all the cognitive tests and the of the Jaeger's systems, one by one, and Chuck kept himself focused on the knowledge that Striker was _his_ Jaeger, waiting for the nameplate above the motion rig to be filled in with _his_ name.

_If_ he met all the benchmarks.

Suspecting that thought had come from the right side of the conn-pod, he shot back, _If my old man doesn't screw us up._ Hearing/feeling Herc's mental sigh, he rolled his eyes. His dad was a fine one to sigh when he'd been pining for Raleigh bloody Becket, letting Devi cry on his shoulder and hoping she'd let him -

The drift flashed with Chuck's memory of Danny and Evie. _HEY!_

_Mind your own...bloody...business and get your eye on the bloody ball,_ Candidate _,_ his old man's mental voice snarled at him.

_Well, fuck you,_ sir, Chuck shot back. But he stayed in alignment and slid Striker's systems into the next phase of testing. Despite the thrill of actually being in a Jaeger, his own Jaeger, the calibration maneuvers were dead boring. Even so, they stayed in alignment, and if LOCCENT could detect the acrimony in the two pilots' brain waves, nobody mentioned it.

After morning drills in the Assembly Building Kwoon, the Hassans put the Hansens through their paces while they waited for the J-Techs to call them in for calibrations of Striker Eureka's conn-pod. "Come on. Show us what they're teaching at Academy these days. Chuck, you first," Suze ordered. "Attack."

Chuck was gleeful to get to spare with her again and sense she wasn't holding back. Eight months ago, all the "grown-up" Rangers had been so cautious about sparring with the "kids," even Chuck who was easily taller than either Hassan and had nearly a hundred pounds on them. He unleashed every Bushido technique that had been drilled into him by the Fightmasters and the Rangers on duty in Anchorage, but to his frustration, he didn't beat her half as handily as he expected.

In the end, he lost, three hits to four. _Dammit!_ All that training and he still came up short!

He fared even worse against Devi, and found himself wondering if every match he'd ever won against either of them had been deliberately thrown. He did manage to beat Indra - four hits to three - but it did nothing for his mood to see the way Devi and Herc grinned at each other when the old man stepped up for his turn.

They went at it like a dance, all light on their feet like a couple of bloody pixies when Chuck had felt like a lumbering giant troll. And the air between them practically buzzed. _Really, Hassan? You can't do any better than a man ten years older?_

He almost laughed out loud when Herc tripped himself up and took a hit in the process. Devi could have pressed the attack and ended the match with a volley - but she didn't. So, Herc she'd let win. It was all Chuck could do not to spit.

He couldn't decide whether to be relieved or sorry when Kyrra called Herc first to the drivesuit lab for testing his suit inputs. (Sorry because he really wanted a round and a chance to kick the old man's ass; relieved because it would be damned hard to hide the mood he was in, and that wouldn't look very good in front of the other Rangers.)

Devi glanced at the clock and called after her, "Has Chuck got time to take Max for a walk before you need him?"

"Yeah, it'll be an hour or two."

"Come on. He's used to going out at lunchtime, and he's missed you."

What with her being his superior officer now, Chuck couldn't really refuse... and he didn't really want to. _Did you miss me too or just my old man?_

He swallowed that and pretended everything was fine. They jogged along the testing grounds and threw Max's Frisbee for him, and Devi demanded he repeat some of the new katas that had been added to the Jaeger Bushido repertoire. That made him feel better. "Fighting you this morning, I figured you knew them all!"

She smirked. "I know you did. I'd be stupid to telegraph what I _don't_ know during a spar." At the look on his face, she laughed. "It's something the Gages taught us: lots of people have more experience than you, more black belts, and more trophies. But when they know they're more experienced, it can be their weakness. Because they're focused on themselves instead of on you, the opponent. You only need to know one way to unbalance or stun if you can slip it past them."

In other words, Chuck had walked right into it, too busy showing off to pay attention to what she and Suze might do. "I want to go again."

"Out here." Devi glanced around and released Max's leash to let him wander nearby. "Slow. Concentrate." She dropped into stance. "Attack."

He tried bando on her first, guessing that she wouldn't know it because the Fightmasters reported that they'd only introduced it during the Mark-4 classes after the Koreans sent more instructors. It was fast and close-quarters, but he slowed it down as ordered. Now he could see how she responded: evasion for a few steps, gauging the style, finding his openings. Seeing that she returned with a judo reap, he tried to block it, but she stopped him.

"No. You're not picking your katas off a menu, Candidate. I'm a kaiju. Do what will work and don't think so much about what's 'right.'" She dropped into a standard forward stance. "Ever seen a kaiju look like this?"

"Not on two legs." He stepped back. "Meathead was... praying mantis plus scorpion." Devi nodded and dropped back into the pose. He imagined a barbed tail whipping behind her and couldn't quite hold back a grin.

"There you are. Attack." She stopped being human in his mind's eye, and he could see her extra limbs. It irked him when she declared a "hit" from an invisible stinger, but each time they went over the blows they'd exchanged, he had to concede she was right.

Tension eased and they got sillier, coming up with more and more bizarre poses to try and mimic the movement of four and six and eight-limbed kaiju or the ones with flippers rather than legs. Some were... more successful than others.

When Chuck hip-checked Devi hard enough to knock her off her feet, he whooped triumph, and she bellowed, "I have NEVER seen a kaiju do THAT!"

"Then why'd they teach us the tango at Academy?" he crowed.

"Hey, that's right! Come on, dance for me!" Chuck groaned loudly, and she snapped her fingers. "Do I have to pull rank on you, _Candidate?_ "

"You're gonna play that for all it's worth, aren't you?"

"Believe it, Hansen, move your feet!"

"I'm not very good," he warned, but obediently started stumbling through the steps they'd all been drilled in along with the Jaeger Bushido. Most of it was meant to be done solo, side-by-side and in mirror image regardless of whether the partners were male or female. In theory, Chuck knew it wasn't that different from martial arts - hell, in some ways, the dance steps were simpler, more repetitive. But he felt like the biggest klutz on earth, while Evie Nakano, Lo Hin Shen, and even Dan Oliver had been the epitome of grace.

Devi took pity on him and let him stop after trying to follow along for a few rounds, and they went back to the Kwoon. To his embarrassment, Suze wanted to see the dances too, but she only made him repeat them a few times before she switched to the Viennese waltz. "The dance part's mostly meant for the drift dial-up," she told him, patient even when he stepped on her feet. "But even the stuff you're worst at can teach you something. It's bloody good for coordination."

She searched out a video on the internet and pulled it up on the main screen. Chuck recognized the four dancers: it was the Tunari brothers and the Tanaka sisters, Echo Saber's pilots. The quartet began with the same steps he and the Hassans had been attempting from the Academy, but gradually got more and more elaborate until it looked like some kind of professional ballet.

Chuck watched the two teams and felt a stab of envy. Not just for the intricate steps and the way they made it look easy, but... how comfortable they all seemed. Switching positions, switching partners and leaders, and all four knew where the others would be, going over and under and around each other without having to look even once. Chuck and his old man knew the forms and the drills, and could spar each other to a standstill. But he doubted either of them could even make Bushido look as effortless as this.

To Chuck's mortification, when he and his old man got back into the conn-pod a few hours later, he discovered that he and the Hassans had had an audience.

_Herc was peering around the Kwoon entrance like a movie spy, watching Chuck, Devi, and Suze dancing._

_"For god's sake, just go in!" Kyrra exclaimed when she spotted him._

_But Herc refused. "If he sees me watching, he'll stop._ "

Annoyed and embarrassed, Chuck hauled them back to the center of the drift. _I'm not some stupid schoolkid, old man. It's part of the drills; I won't stop._

He regretted his impulsive declaration later when he saw Herc waltzing with Devi. But his old man shot him a challenging look, so he just shrugged like it was nothing and remarked to Indra, "At least I know where I got my two left feet from."

* * *

_June 15, 2020…_

After ten days of calibration, Herc and his son were cleared to start powered maneuvers on the test grounds. Herc couldn't deny being nervous, and it got to the point that he and Chuck bounced it back and forth like a Ping-Pong ball in the drift, half-crossly, half-playfully accusing each other of being the source of the nerves they sensed. Like the drift, emotions between them slid back and forth between frustration, anger, hurt, and bitterness, but always settled into something like aligned equilibrium so they could move forward.

Always forward.

Herc was cross (and worried) that unlike Kodiak Island, the testing grounds of Brisbane couldn't be completely isolated from the prying eyes and zoom lenses of the media. Chuck was eager at first, until he saw the latest slew of articles proclaiming his presence in the conn-pod to be a disaster waiting to happen, a travesty of humanity, and an affront to decency. There were petitions being signed, inflamed opinion columns being published, and lawsuits being contemplated, all centered on the insistence that Charles Hansen was simply Too Young To Be A Jaeger Pilot.

Oh, and Hercules Hansen was surely the most miserable excuse for a parent to ever live for consenting to such a thing. Whatever their differing reasons, Herc and Chuck were very much in alignment on their ultimate attitude towards the naysayers and do-gooders: _Fuck you very much._

Then Herc got the shock of his life when Sasha and Aleksis Kaidanovsky contacted him. " _We know how it came about, after Manila_ ," said Sasha over the vid-comm. While Herc was still debating what to say to that (not bothering to wonder how she knew - the Russians could find out anything), she went on. " _Your son has done well in training. He shows great promise._ "

"Yeah, he does." There was no denying that.

He waited, and she came to her point. " _Is this what you want, Hercules?_ " He just blinked, and Sasha huffed. " _We all know the boy wants this. He's young and full of spirit. But what of you?_ " She folded her arms and considered him over the camera feed.

Aleksis surprised him further by chiming in. " _You are good pilot, Herc. One of the best. But none must force you. If they are forcing you, we must make them stop._ "

To Herc's embarrassment, his throat got very tight. So it wasn't just Stacker and Caitlin and the Hassans who knew. Had word traveled so far in so much detail, or was it just the Russians and their inexplicable, uncanny ability to know everything about everybody? He ought to tell them to butt out and not mention it to anybody, but... it meant too damn much to hear them say this. To know that out there in the Corps were others who gave a damn.

At length, he pulled himself together and took a deep breath. "Thanks," he told them, glad that they wouldn't be put out by the gruffness of his voice. "I appreciate it, but... I've made up my mind. I didn't like... the way it started, but that was before Chuck went through training. He's done everything he needs to do, to qualify as a pilot in his own right. He's ready. I'm ready. We'll do this."

They took him at his word, and he knew he could take them at theirs. " _Remember, you're not alone. You will never be._ "

The next day, he and Chuck walked Striker Eureka out of the assembly bay doors into the Australian sun and listened to cheers on the speakers from LOCCENT. _"Gorgeous!_ " Kyrra crowed. " _Now once more with feeling!"_

Chuck laughed and asked in the drift, _Does that mean we get to make him dance after launch?_

Herc grinned in spite of himself. _Maybe, kid. Maybe._

" _Begin test maneuvers, Striker Eureka. Steady as she goes._ "

"Acknowledged. Beginning walk-around." Chuck was dying to exercise all the power in their hands, but forced himself to concentrate. One step at a time. This was a test, not a game, and a foul-up could cost lives, not to mention billions of dollars (as the commentators never hesitated to point out.) Enough people thought he was a careless kid who couldn't possibly be responsible enough -

_Focus,_ Herc told him. Chuck managed not to growl out loud. Still, Herc knew the kid sensed that he wasn't unsympathetic. Herc didn't buy into the talking heads and their casual insults either. His kid wasn't brainless, and he wasn't some infant being enslaved either.

_Oi. Now whose mind's wandering?_ Chuck smirked at Herc's sudden chagrin. Well, Herc had never pretended that parts of being a pilot weren't dull as ditchwater. Not just for the pilots either, judging by the banter coming over the speakers. But he and the kid dutifully kept their attention on the "feel" of the systems, since there was only so much that a non-human computer could sense.

Such as when they started testing evasive maneuvers. " _Let's limbo!_ " someone yelled.

_"Come on, Striker, give us a back-flip!_ "

Maneuvers weren't as eagerly-anticipated as firing Striker's weapons, but seeing how far they could pivot on one foot and bending nearly double was pretty damn cool - until Chuck stopped them. "Hold it! Stop!"

"What's wrong?" Herc leaned forward in his rig to look the kid up and down.

Chuck was frowning up at the rig mountings over his head. "LOCCENT, run a circuitry check on my motion rig again. Have I got full connectivity on my right side?"

_"Hang on, Striker Two, initiating test pulses...whoop! That's a negative - good call, Chuck. We had full send-receive when you started, but you're down to ninety-three percent. Something's gone unresponsive."_

"I've got range of motion..." Chuck tested his limbs, still frowning. "Dunno, it just feels... off. Troubleshoot or emergency test?"

Priya buzzed in from J-Tech. _"What I don't like is that your oxygen line runs along your right side. Striker One, any difficulties on your left? Your rig connections are mirror image to each other._ "

Herc flexed everything, but couldn't sense the faint mental tug that he could feel from Chuck's side through the drift, like a pulled muscle. "No problems here."

" _All right, let's_ slowly _finish those maneuvers. Chuck, be ready to yell if you feel anything change, and both of you be ready for us to hit the kill switch if it gets any worse._ "

They finished the maneuvers without incident, both feeling the faint distortion in Striker's body. _"I'm showing more heat above Chuck's right side, LOCCENT,"_ warned Kyrra.

_"Okay, I don't like it. Striker, return to the crawler - actually, cancel that, let's kill to birds with one stone. Run an emergency shutdown drill for me. Go!_ "

Chuck hissed as their minds raced through the protocol, but to Herc's approval, he'd committed every step to muscle memory. In twenty seconds, the drift flowed away as the handshake deactivated, and Striker Eureka settled into silent rest around them. "Emergency shutdown complete, LOCCENT. Permission to disengage?"

" _Striker Two, keep connected. Disengage, Striker One. Can you see anything with Striker Two's rig?_ "

Herc disconnected and walked around Chuck. "Nothing visual." Chuck flexed his arms and tugged on the rig before disengaging, then shrugged at him. "Guesses?"

"Metal fatigue?" Chuck went to check out Herc's rig, transplanted from Lucky Seven. "Or not, actually. Your side's got the metal. I thought a blown circuit, but nothing hurt. Those burn, don't they?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that wasn't it," Herc mused.

But when they got safely into the pickup chopper, Greg Oliver had turned over the controls to one of the other pilots, and was waiting for them in the cabin. "What's wrong?" Chuck demanded.

He held up a tablet. "Olivia Morton's filed a lawsuit. She and her cronies are calling for an order to take Chuck into state custody."

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:**_ _Herc and Chuck, their crew, and their fellow Rangers must close ranks and prove Chuck's readiness to pilot a Jaeger in the court of public opinion - and possibly real court in_ _ **Chapter Twenty-Seven: Minor Setbacks!**_ ( _Pun intended_.)
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Juliette and Nathan Girard: pilots of Cascade Victor, a Mark-4 Jaeger jointly launched by the US and Canada. First cousins from Quebec in their mid-20s, both were pilots-in-training with the Canadian Air Force before joining the Jaeger Academy Class 2018-B.
> 
> Olivia Morton: Licensed on-site teacher for the children of Sydney Shatterdome's family housing. Late 20s, with several degrees but little practical experience, she didn't think much of the Hansens - and they knew it. Vehemently opposed to Chuck's quest to become a Ranger at age 16.
> 
> Daniel (Danny) Oliver: Age 17, son of support chopper pilot Greg Oliver, survived Scissure along with his little sister, Emma. He and Chuck clashed as teens in the Shatterdome but resolved their differences (and engaged in some sexual experimentation) at the Jaeger Academy, where Danny achieved drift compatibility with a partner and won the assignment to Tacit Ronin.
> 
> Evelyn (Evie) Nakano: Age 18, British-Japanese, another graduate of Class 2020-A. Despite disliking Chuck, she tested as potentially compatible with both him and Herc. She is drift compatible with Danny Oliver, and they have been assigned as successor pilots of Tacit Ronin.
> 
> Dr. Priya Katwal: J-Tech senior Engineer, formerly NASA, now designs conn-pod support systems, Indian, late 50s.
> 
> Kyrra Taior: Chief Engineer for Lucky Seven, then Striker Eureka. Aboriginal, Herc's age. Youngest and sole surviving daughter of Marian Taior, an elderly aboriginal woman who occasionally looked after Chuck when he was younger.
> 
> Greg Oliver: Herc's comrade and fellow chopper pilot from before K-Day, now a support pilot for Lucky Seven. Like Herc, he joined the Jaeger Program in the wake of Scissure. He lost his parents and his oldest daughter, Karina, in the attack. His son, Danny, was accepted into the Jaeger Academy after four tries despite lower academic scores than Chuck, and is now pilot of Tacit Ronin.
> 
> **Late Rangers**
> 
> Miguel Blanco and Maria Lopez-Blanco: Rangers of the Mark-1 Jaeger, _Talon "Tango" Tasmania_. Late 20s. Argentinian Navy pilots, they discovered their drift compatibility by dancing, and started the Ranger tradition of making their Jaeger dance. Married shortly after Christmas 2016. Tragically, they were the first Rangers to die in battle only a few months after their wedding against the kaiju Vaulimi in February 2017.
> 
> Jiro and Hayase Shindo: pilots of _Tidal Dragon_ , Japan's Mark-2. Foster siblings from Nagasaki, Japanese martial arts teachers in their mid-30s who helped develop Jaeger Bushido. Tidal Dragon had only one engagement (Razorfin in mid-2018) before her reactor design was proven unsafe, and exposed the Shindos to high radiation. Jiro died less than a year later. Hayase (along with Duc Jessop, whose wife Kaori died of cancer from radiation in Tacit Ronin) has been treated by the PPDC as a propaganda tool ever since, to the deep resentment of their fellow Rangers.
> 
> Yan-Jie Lim and Fang Lao: Pilots of _Silver Lion_ , China's Mark-2 Jaeger. First cousins in the Chinese Army, part of the inaugural group of Jaeger pilots. Officially, they were killed in action against kaiju Raythe off the Japanese coast in August 2018, but in fact, they were killed along with their support crew by a massive malfunction that crippled Silver Lion.
> 
> Min and Jing Li: Pilots of _Horizon Brave_. Brother and sister in their late 30s, Chinese Air Force officers and China's first Jaeger pilots, they helped shape the program that would become the Jaeger Academy and recruited many talented people into the program, including a certain set of triplets. Killed in action in Manila on December 16, 2019 during the engagement that destroyed Lucky Seven.


	27. Minor Setbacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herc and Chuck, their crew, and their fellow Rangers must close ranks and prove Chuck's readiness to pilot a Jaeger in the court of public opinion - and possibly real court

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** Thanks tons to everyone for the feedback! And special thanks to Raine_Wynd for her assistance in beta-reading!_

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: Minor Setbacks**

_PPDC Jaeger Assembly Facility, Brisbane, Australia…  
June 30, 2020…_

"'Custody?'" Chuck mumbled. _Like… arrested, no, not like that… like Dad was afraid of if Ketteridge didn't put family housing in the Shatterdome._ It settled in his stomach like hot lead, because he _knew_ , even though Dad had never talked about it, and even Scott hadn't dared bring it up around his nephew. There was no hiding it in the drift, especially now after they'd spent weeks in Striker Eureka and the simulator.

The idea that Chuck might be taken from his dad had never occurred to Chuck himself… but it had occupied Herc's mind for years. Suddenly those memories were playing through Chuck's head, and they weren't his own memories.

In the chopper returning from Striker, his old man was silent. His face was blank as he looked out the windows. A year ago or five years ago, Chuck would have taken that to mean Herc was unaffected. He knew better now, but on top of that churning anxiety and surging memory that he knew was coming from the ghost drift, there was that old, bitter indignation that he knew was his own.

_Dad doesn't care,_ he'd used to think. _I'm just a nuisance._

He wasn't sure why those thoughts were still running through his head. Not now that he could feel and hear the ones that ran through his father's head.

Minutes out of Striker's conn-pod, it surged back and forth between them in the ghost drift. _Now? I've graduated high school, the Jaeger Academy, and they might take me now?_

_Olivia fucking Morton isn't even his teacher anymore, and now she takes my son from me?! I don't know how to answer a court summons, what the hell do I do now?_

_I won't be legal for another fourteen months…_ It might be so much worse than losing his chance to be a pilot. What if Chuck had to go… somewhere else? His mind spun trying to figure out exactly where. Some posh school like Ms. Morton had tried to persuade Herc? Or some foster family who wouldn't let him keep up training? Worse?

Greg Oliver kept looking back over his shoulder from the cockpit. Even as the ghost drift rang with questions and adrenaline surged through their blood, Herc and Chuck didn't say a word to anyone, or even to each other.

* * *

Devi was tense as she and Suze and the rest of Team Striker and Team Vulcan waited for the pickup chopper to return. Greg had insisted on breaking the news to Herc and Chuck during the chopper pickup so there wouldn't be any cameras around. Devi supposed she couldn't fault the logic, but half-feared she'd see the helicopter explode mid-air.

To her intense relief, Greg's instincts were sound, and it was a rigidly-controlled pair of Hansens who came stalking off the landing pad back into the Assembly Building. "What now?" Herc asked the room in general. Chuck's eyes were darting to the doors as if he was expecting the police to come charging in at any second.

"The Corps General Counsel handles legal actions involving the Jaeger Program or pilots," said Kyrra. "They'll assign someone to you from Legal."

Suze nudged Devi lightly, and they both caught Indra's eye. He nodded, and said to Herc, "Our family knows some people in the legal industry here in town. I could make some calls if you want to talk to someone outside the Corps."

Now Herc and Chuck exchanged glances, and Herc slowly nodded. "Might not be a bad idea." His voice was steady, but Devi thought the air around them was positively sizzling with tension and suppressed rage - and fear.

_Bloody meddlesome, self-righteous bitch! How dare you!_

The teacher had rarely spoken to Vulcan Specter's crew, since only one of their personnel had a kid who was school-age, and when she had approached them, it had often been to huff and puff about what a terrible parent Herc was. _"That boy needs a much firmer hand,_ " she'd told Indra while Devi and Suze had been demoing Bushido for the older kids. Chuck had been eagerly trying to learn the katas. _"He's completely out of control._ "

" _Odd, last I heard, he was in the top one percentile for the whole country and set to get his high school certificate almost two years early,_ " Indra had replied. " _And he doesn't seem to be misbehaving from where I stand._ "

_"There are dangers to being too far ahead. He has no respect for authority. He's more likely to make a serial killer than an engineer, and these glorified killing machines aren't helping._ "

_"I'm sure we're all flattered to know what you think of us, ma'am,_ " Indra was master of keeping his cool. Susanti would have erupted, and Devi couldn't be sure she would have been so blithe about it.

The Hassans weren't sure what Morton's damage was; the woman didn't seem to have any family in the service, and if she'd suffered losses to Scissure, nobody'd mentioned it. She was Devi's age, but seemed to fancy herself older, or at least of superior intellect. Kyrra had told Susanti that she was at least respectful of Marian Taior, and seemed to appreciate the older woman's value as grandmotherly babysitter, but brushed off any suggestion that her educational techniques and psychotherapy texts weren't helping.

Devi had felt sorry for her in the past. It had to be overwhelming. There had been only twenty kids in the Shatterdome including Chuck, at the time that the Hassans arrived, but they were all different ages, different walks of life, and nearly every one had some degree of trauma thanks to the war. . Devi had imagined it had to have been difficult for an inexperienced teacher in a military post, especially from the way Morton had made it sound to anyone who'd listen.

That sympathy had steadily evaporated and full-on vanished the day Chuck and Herc had left for the Jaeger Academy, when Morton had been heard to mutter, " _It's a shame Children's Services didn't see fit to get Charles out of this situation before it came to this_."

Apparently, she still thought that was the solution. Once the chopper landed, Devi expected Herc and Chuck to disappear into their quarters, but instead, they headed for the Kwoon. She and Suze found them in a rapid-fire, damn spectacular sparring match, working off their tensions. Well, who said that wasn't a healthy coping mechanism?

The four of them worked out in companionable silence, changing up partners a few times, and went through all their drills. Devi and Suze found themselves watching Chuck more than Herc, and frequently exchanged glances when (they hoped) neither Hansen noticed.

_How many men over eighteen, soldiers, athletes, can master all this?_ It was so easy to forget on a day-to-day basis that Chuck was only sixteen. He was solid muscle and coordination, pure balance and smooth movement, laser focus and concentration when so few teenaged boys could pay attention to anything for hours on end. Of those who could meet all the demands on body and mind, how many could find a partner to make a successful drift? Sometimes Devi had wondered whether the occasionally-almost-hyperactive Raleigh would ever have survived the Academy without Yancy to stabilize him...

That thought sent renewed grief ricocheting through her and Suze, and they wrenched their minds back to the present. They had a problem at hand to deal with, and going back to that part of the past just hurt too bloody much.

To get Herc and Chuck's minds off it, Devi, Suze, and Indra smuggled them off the base for dinner with their families. Seeing how their parents measured Chuck up to everything they'd heard about the boy was pretty interesting, but if Devi and Suze had any doubts that their family would welcome their Dome-mates, they'd never have brought them.

It was a relaxed evening after too many days fraught with tension, to Devi and Suze's relief. After some awkward small talk, their father, who taught computer science at Queensland Tech, drew Chuck out with questions about Striker Eureka's systems, and both Hansens were soon in animated conversation with the elder Hassans.

"And I thought his doctoral student conferences were full of shop talk," Indra's father mock-complained.

Afterward, as Indra had arranged, a family friend came to visit – who also happened to be a very experienced local lawyer. Whatever she told Herc and Chuck in the Hassans' study seemed (Devi hoped) to set their minds a little more at ease.

When they got back to base, Herc went out walking with Max, while Chuck stayed in. Devi pulled out the magnetic chess board. "I haven't had a game with you in awhile. Fancy a match?"

He sat down across from her, picking white, and remarked, "Didn't you used to have a Lego set?"

"Yeah, this one's new."

It wasn't new; any idiot could guess that much. It was dinged and scratched from years of wear and tear, but still folded up with all its pieces into a neat little square, perfect for players who never stopped moving. Back at the Academy, before Team Vulcan had left for Sydney and Team Gipsy for Los Angeles, Yancy and Raleigh had carried it for the inevitable hurry-up-and-wait moments outside the simulator labs and drivesuit rooms and pons tests. Sometimes they'd left it in one frequented spot or another, and carried on running games with Devi and Suze. Once the chess-loving teams had scattered, the Hassan-versus-Becket rivalry had been carried out online. Raleigh and Yancy's little travel set had gone on with them from post to post.

It had been in the box of mementos and gifts that Tendo Choi had sent from Anchorage. Devi didn't tell Chuck who it had belonged to before, and if he had any inkling, he didn't say.

* * *

The lawyer friend of the Hassans and the PPDC's assigned attorney both told Herc and Chuck the same thing: "This lawsuit won't succeed. Olivia Morton has a duty to report a child being abused or neglected, but Chuck's not being abused or neglected. She doesn't have the power to overrule a parent's decision to let a kid join a training program early. That's all Chuck is right now: a trainee. The best they've got are rumors."

They held onto those reassurances and tried to take them to heart – or at least not to let on that they had any doubts, even to each other.

The media firestorm was in full swing just the same. Morton and whatever lawyers she was working with had cited the gutter press stories about orgies and raves, underage drinking and sexual abuse in the Academy and Shatterdomes, but hadn't claimed a single actual harm against Chuck himself. Just all the terrible things that _might_ happen.

"If you blow your top, you'll be playing right into their hands," Indra warned Chuck.

"Yeah, I know. I won't."

At the Shatterdome, they could have immured themselves and stayed out of sight of the cameras for weeks. At the Brisbane Assembly Facility, that wasn't possible. Unless they were on the testing grounds in the Jaeger, they were far closer to curious onlookers, reporters... and protesters. The walk from housing to the Assembly Building passed close enough to the fence that Chuck could read some of the banners.

**_No Child Soldiers!_ **

**_Jaegers Aren't Toys!_ **

**_Go Back To School!_ **

Sometimes he could hear voices shouting. He and Herc steadfastly kept their gazes straight ahead and did their damnedest not to make out what the shouters were actually saying.

The worst day was after they finished logging all their time in Striker and completed all the initial tests that should have qualified them as Ranger Ready... but the orders hadn't come down. No need to wonder why.

And on that day, someone had let a group of reporters into the mess hall.

Chuck and Herc nearly turned around and left when an apologetic MP murmured, "Dunno who gave them passes, but they've got them. You don't have to talk to them unless you want to."

All three Hassans, Kyrra Taior, and Greg Oliver had leapt in front of them, but only Greg was tall enough to begin to block a camera's line of sight, and there was only one of him. They all exchanged silent looks. Chuck could see his old man's jaw working, and it was only when his own started hurting that he realized how hard he was grinding his own teeth.

_It's a test. One of the commanders wants to see what we say before they sign off on us as pilots._ He knew Herc had worked out the same thing, so with a quick exchanged look, they steeled themselves and went on to get their food.

"Ranger Hansen, anything to say about the allegations that you're an unfit father?"

"Chuck, don't you think you ought to graduate high school first?"

"Rangers, aren't you concerned about a sixteen-year-old watching your back?"

"Don't you have anything to say about the allegations of sexual misconduct and underage drinking?"

Chuck wanted to throw an elbow at Devi, who kept hovering as if she was afraid she'd have to yank him back from attacking one of the reporters. Maybe whoever'd given them base passes was hoping he'd do precisely that, and get them off the hook. Well, Chuck wasn't going to let anyone write him off that easily.

He straightened his shoulders as he and Herc made their way to the central table, relieved that he was now as tall as his old man, and addressed the hovering cameras: "I've met every qualification there is for a Ranger. The decision's in the hands of the commanding officers. Take it up with them. I've got no other comment."

He turned his back in the startled pause and ignored the renewed babble of questions, and thought maybe, just maybe, that rush of pride he felt had come not from his own head but through the ghost drift from his father. He just hoped he wasn't broadcasting his nerves; Chuck had never learned to keep a poker face. The closest he could ever seem to get was a scowl, and at the moment, he felt like all his emotional control had gone into those few words he'd spoken aloud. He couldn't even look in his old man's direction for fear his pounding heart would betray him.

Someone turned up the TV on the wall as high as they could all stand, but as luck would have it, most of the channels were broadcasting this juicy gossip. Chuck managed not to hold his breath when Marshal Ketteridge was seen on his way to a conference with some of the Australian brass.

To the reporters' shouted questions, he raised his hands and said mildly, " _We're going to take everyone's concerns very seriously in evaluating Charles Hansen's readiness. Ranger Hansen's belief that his son was old enough to join him as a pilot was a powerful factor in our decision, but it's not the only one. That's all that I'm prepared to say at this time_."

The TV volume was really loud, and the reporters onscreen and off were louder, but at the tables in the mess hall around Chuck, it was suddenly very quiet.

_Did he really just..._

_"Do not make a liar out of me._ "

_You bloody, two-faced bastard._ Chuck's skin was actually tingling as it all sank in. Marshal Blake Fucking Ketteridge had just thrown Chuck's father under the bus, passing Chuck's presence off as Herc's idea rather than continuing to back Chuck to the public's questions. Ketteridge had bloody _proof-read_ Chuck's application, promised to vouch for him to the Academy Board and to smooth things over with Herc. Chuck had wanted to be chosen so badly, had looked at the vacancy in the Mark-5's conn-pod as something like providence, imagining himself as Herc's partner, equal, and heir... and look at it. He'd swallowed Ketteridge's bait, hook, line, and sinker.

It took a physical nudge from Herc to jolt him back to reality. No doubt the reporters had seen his expression - so much for keeping a grip on himself. To his further humiliation, his old man was not the least bit surprised. _"You'd trust him? You stupid kid._ " Herc had been right. His old man had been right all along about Ketteridge. The Marshal had been playing Chuck, and Herc had known it, but Chuck hadn't been willing to believe it.

He made himself finish his breakfast, but he might as well have been eating sand. _They're gonna drop me. Morton and her damn public opinion campaign are going to scare them off, and they won't let me pilot._

He was still in a trance as they were all getting up to leave, when Herc suddenly approached the reporters. "Do you think your son's ready?" half a dozen of them chorused.

"Yes." Chuck stopped breathing. In the next silence, Herc finished curtly, "The Jaeger Program puts more demands on applicants than any training program in existence, and he's met them all. That's all the proof you need." He headed for the door, ignoring them again, and Chuck followed in a daze.

They went on to the Kwoon, and Herc started up drills like nothing had happened. "Pull it together," he told everyone. "There'll be more days like this."

Four hours later, they emerged and saw fewer protesters at the fence. Something had happened.

Kyrra found them with the latest word. "Someone else decided to mix it up. Dunno who, but Chuck just got one hell of a vote of confidence."

Chuck stared at her tablet and the headline it showed: **_Leaked Training Vid Shows Incredible Skill of Youngest Ranger Trainee Hansen!_**

Someone had got their hands on the video feeds from Kwoon, testing grounds, and even the simulator lab - and put it all together into a movie-worthy montage that... made Chuck look a hell of a lot older and stronger than he currently felt. The most recent one, Chuck was certain, was only a day old - yeah, it was yesterday, when he'd slipped in a spar with Herc and come flying back to his feet without even thinking about it, but found a black bruise forming when he showered later. In the video, he looked like a superhero.

_Numerous Rangers are now coming forward in support of sixteen-year-old Charles Hansen, declaring him a worthy candidate for their ranks and entirely qualified to co-pilot with his father._

_"Being a Jaeger pilot means meeting a lot of difficult standards," said four-year veteran Victor Tunari, pilot of Japan's Coyote Tango. "It's obvious from the records that Chuck Hansen has qualified in strength and technical knowledge, but by far the most important is being able to drift with a partner. The test videos of Striker Eureka are all the proof you need. They can do it. Nagasaki Shatterdome is behind them._ "

_An anonymous source told us that Sydney Shatterdome Commanding Officer, Blake Ketteridge, was one of the primary advocates of allowing Charles Hansen to apply to the Jaeger Academy. He seems to now be faltering in the face of media scrutiny. Chuck's father, veteran Mark-1 Ranger Hercules Hansen, on the other hand, is the one in the best position to judge, and has reportedly lost all doubt in the young man's readiness._

_Charles Hansen will turn seventeen in August, but if declared Ranger Ready - eligible for formal assignment to a Jaeger - before then, he will be the youngest individual in history to join these elite ranks. Miss Olivia Morton, on-site educator in family housing for the Sydney Shatterdome is among the most vocal opponents, but her lawsuit seeking to halt Chuck Hansen's entry into the Jaeger Program has been dismissed for lack of standing._

"The lawsuit's dismissed… 'for lack of standing' – what does that mean?" Chuck asked the room in general. _Is that it, then? It's over and she can't make Children's Services take me?_

"It's like Legal's rep told you: Morton doesn't get to swan in after you've graduated high school and complain about your dad's decision to let you apply to Academy," Indra explained. "Not when she and her cronies haven't got any evidence that you're being abused. You can't sue because of things that _might_ happen, let alone take someone from their parent."

_Other detractors have expressed concern both for Chuck's safety and for the safety of those protected by the Jaegers._

_"Look at his performance before you start jumping to conclusions," is the advice of Bruce and Trevin Gage. "His simulator scores with Herc [Hansen] are great. The only test that's left is the one that can't be simulated: an actual kaiju. He and Herc are ready, and he's already proven he's old enough._ "

_Rangers from every Shatterdome have now gone on the record in support of the Hansens, some in many words, others with a simple "yes." But this comes as a powerful united voice in the face of so many doubts raised about the Jaeger Program and its pilots._

"'Rangers from every Shatterdome,' eh?" Herc drawled.

Devi and Susanti both blushed. "Well, yeah, of course, we said we supported you," said Devi. She smiled at Chuck. "We just said we've been part of your training team, and we're completely satisfied that you've met all the criteria."

"Thanks," he mumbled, not able to look at her anymore.

She tweaked his chin, forcing him to look up at her in reflex. "You both know there's more to it than that, but if we pushed too hard, they'd say we were being overemotional and not proper judges. Gotta be _objective_ and all."

Herc added nothing else to the discussion. Susanti watched him and Devi wander off, then considered Chuck. "It's not exaggeration, kid."

"Which part?" Chuck asked wryly. "That you think I'm ready or you're too emotionally involved to be objective?"

Now she tweaked his chin too, getting a growl out of him. "Both," she told him.

If it had been Herc alone, Chuck might not have been dissuaded from calling Ketteridge out on his bullshit about-face. But the Hassans, Kyrra and Marian Taior, and Greg Oliver also urged him to err on the side of discretion - no matter how much the Marshal deserved otherwise - so in the end, Chuck agreed to bite his tongue. He had to bite it damn hard, seeing the asshole hemming and hawing about Chuck after insisting December that Chuck's partnership with his old man could save the world and the Jaeger Program.

_I was an idiot to swallow his lines. Joke's on him._

It rankled Chuck to know that part of his old man's reasons for silence was - _again!_ \- Raleigh bloody Becket. Herc was afraid that if the Marshal's machinations got examined too closely, it was only a matter of time before the press inquiry momentum got into the records and tracked the other Ranger down. Duc Jessop... well, knowing Herc also worried about Duc didn't burn so much. Chuck didn't want to see Duc treated like that during his last months on earth, hounded to the grave like Hayase Shindo had been.

Even without Herc and Chuck speaking up, however, in the end, there were enough discerning commenters out there for people to start taking note on just how much Ketteridge was hedging his bets (and noted the stunned look on Chuck's face when he heard what the Marshal said.) The popularity of the Rangers remained high. Their support, and Chuck and Herc's public dignity pulled public opinion back in their favor. Herc and Chuck never did find out who'd put together that video.

Another time where Chuck had to struggle to keep his mouth shut was when Morton - who really did _not_ know when to cut her losses and shut up - went public again, now with the claim that Herc had gotten too old to pilot, based on a Shatterdome rumor that he'd had a stroke.

It was all Chuck could do not to storm up to the nearest reporter and roar, "It _wasn't_ a fucking stroke! It was fucking Jaeger-head!"

* * *

_July 19, 2020…_

It began during the alert for the latest movement in the Breach, but Herc and Chuck didn't put two and two together until afterwards. They ran through the full base alert in Brisbane, and waffled between smugness and distress as Ketteridge went flapping around Sydney over the complete lack of currently-serviceable Jaegers. Vulcan Specter was still out of action with a non-functional right leg, and Striker… Chuck was ready to get into it, but he had to admit that as a crew, they weren't.

So they crossed their fingers and gritted their teeth while waiting for K-Watch's report, and at last, the Eastern Hemisphere got a little luck. Harpy, Category III, headed southeast and finally set her sights on Central America. Chuck could feel Herc's relief through the ghost drift when the stand-down order was issued.

No doubt the brass would bitch about the budget, but although the Western primary teams weren't mobilized, three Jaegers ended up taking the offensive. And Hydra Corinthian fired the first shot, driving Harpy into Romeo Blue and Matador Fury's waiting arms with roars of " _For Yancy!_ "

Chuck felt a pang of consternation and wondered if it was his old man's or his own, seeing the way Devi and Suze ducked in unison, leaning on each other as their classmates pursued the kaiju with, well, a vengeance.

_There's not a Ranger alive who doesn't have a score to settle. Or two._

"Who'll get this kill?" he murmured. It looked like a pretty even three-way effort from where he was sitting. Matador _might_ be putting a little extra in, since he was the only one with an incendiary in the form of his bullfighter spears. But Romeo and Hydra were definitely earning their stripes, lacerating Harpy and pinning her down so Matador could get the most mileage out of each spear blow.

"Cerastes was a three-fer," said Indra, giving Devi and Suze a smile. "Harpy's a little smaller, but she'll probably be the same."

The day after the Mexican kill, they were slated to resume testing in Striker, but Herc seemed to be dragging his feet. "What's biting your ass?" Chuck demanded.

"Nothing. Just a bad night. Keep your eye on the ball," Herc retorted, as if Chuck were the one being sluggish.

Chuck was vaguely aware of a dull pressure in his head, but figured one or both of them was just wrestling with a winter headache. Aches and pains were just a part of life with Jaegers, and he didn't see or sense anything in the ghost drift that said it was out of the ordinary.

Until they initiated the neural handshake and swept into the full drift. Then, Chuck found himself in - literally - a world of hurt. "God!" _Dad? Dad, what the hell's going on -_

_\- It's fine, it's nothing, just a headache, just..._

He was lying through his teeth. It was not "just a headache." Chuck thought his brain had to be swelling, and if his own wasn't, his dad's definitely was. The world outside the drift space was distorting into a tunnel, with all light turned to liquid agony, and a pressure from inside his skull that seemed to grow with every heartbeat.

He fumbled for the comm as Herc tried to muster a protest. "We can't - LOCCENT - "

" _Holy shit, Striker, both of you have blood pressure going through the roof! What's wrong?"_

"Shut down," Chuck croaked. "Something's wrong with my dad, his head..."

_Chuck -_

_\- SHUT UP! We can't jockey when you're in so much pain we can barely see._

His old man wanted to argue the point, he could tell... but the nausea that swept through the drift forced both of their attention on getting Striker powered back down so they could reopen the doors and get out of their helmets before they started bringing up their guts.

Chuck felt better once the neural handshake deactivated, but his skull still throbbed from some combination of sympathy, memory, and ghost drift. "He needs a doctor," he breathed as the techs pulled him into the drivesuit room. How the hell Herc had managed to hide it this long was beyond him, but there was no chance of it now. His old man was ashen-faced and sweating, barely able to keep his eyes open.

Chuck's mind was racing. The medics muttered to each other about brain bleeds, clots, strokes, and what kind of naïve moron had he been to never think about risks like that before now? His old man was over forty, still in spectacular shape, capable of fighting guys half his age to a standstill, all sharp wits and keen senses, but...

But what the hell was wrong?

Devi and Susanti turned up while the medics were putting Herc through the scanners. "Could it be Jaeger-head?" Suze asked.

Chuck shook his head. "We were never in Brawler Yukon, remember?"

Then Devi turned back towards the MRI room. "No, but... but Jaeger-head affects pilots who've been in more than one Jaeger, and Herc did pilot another Mark-1. Maybe that's all it takes."

Brisbane's medics conferenced with Sydney's medics, and then with Dr. Tán back in Anchorage over the test results, and immured Herc in a patient room with all the lights out and a slew of monitors hooked up to him. Chuck shook off Devi and Suze's comforting hands with a grunt of what he hoped was apology, but he was too agitated to let anyone get near him now. Except Herc. If his old man would bloody _get up_ and say it was all right and be telling the truth, that'd work.

But at last, the medics' verdict came in: "It's Jaeger-head, all right. His serotonin's bottoming out and the trigeminal nucleus thinks it's the Fourth of July. Congratulations are in order: Herc is the first Mark-1 pilot to join this illustrious club from a Jaeger other than Brawler Yukon."

Chuck didn't find it so funny. "How long does it last? Can you give him anything?"

"I already have," said Dr. Tsai, Sydney's chief medic. "We'll make him as comfortable as we can, but better to just ride it out here than try to move him to Sydney."

They packed Herc onto a rolling bed in one of the emptied electronics rooms with the air conditioning cranked all the way up. Chuck hovered awkwardly as the medics tried to turn off or cover every light source. His old man was doped into a near-stupor, but Chuck could tell he was still hurting even without the ghost drift. The room got uncomfortably cold, but a sheen of sweat covered Herc, and his breathing was shallow and ragged. If not for the drugs, he'd probably have been hyperventilating and/or vomiting his guts out.

Somehow, Herc sensed Chuck was there, and mumbled, "G'won. Y'can't do anything." He didn't want his kid to see him this way. Injured by combat would be one thing, Chuck knew; they'd both prepared to deal with that. But not just sick. Chuck had to admit he'd probably feel the same if he were the one with Jaeger-head. After a long hesitation, he left.

But the whole Assembly Building population seemed to be side-eyeing him, like it was his fault his old man had Jaeger-head. Chuck pounded a sandbag to hell and back in the gym until he couldn't take the stares anymore, then fled. He might not have been in the throes of that monster mutant migraine himself, but the bright winter sun didn't appeal to him like it normally would, and he went looking for an empty room to hole up in. He couldn't quite bear to go all the way back to quarters while his dad was so ill.

It only added to the frustration of an already-awkward day that he near-enough walked in on Susanti Hassan and Kyrra Taior. "Oi!"

"Shit!" He spun away. Thank god they were both still dressed... Scott would've loved this, Chuck's drift memories informed him very much against his will. Face scorching, he mumbled an apology and ran for it.

"Hey! Chuck, kiddo, wait!" He stopped without looking at them, but let them catch up. Suze sounded baffled. "What're you doing here?"

He stared at the concrete floor, the pipes on the walls, anywhere but at her or Kyrra. "Whadda you mean?"

"Why aren't you with Herc?" That startled him into meeting her eyes. Kyrra looked almost as lost as he felt, but Suze had that same, judgey sort of expression that everyone else seemed to have.

"He... he told me to go." His sluggish mind reminded him that Suze was a Ranger, not just crew. "Is there something I should be doing? Everyone's acting like I should be with him, but I don't know what to do!"

"Buggeration." Suze heaved a sigh. "I love your dad, kid, but I could just kick him sometimes. C'mon." She led the way back towards the lower levels where the medics had stashed Herc. As they walked, she explained, "I know it's a bit weird, because it's your dad, but remember: pilots are equals. And you're each other's first responsibility, especially when one of you is incapacitated. There's no written rulebook," she added, seeing his confusion. "It's only... people are used to seeing one pilot stay with the other if the other's sick."

Chuck slowed down, pondering that. It felt... weird, kind of uncomfortable, but... _It's not about me and my dad. It's about co-pilots. I'm supposed to be with him whether he likes it or not. He's got to get used to that too._ "What can I do? Just sit with him, keep a look out?"

"You and your dad haven't ever had migraines, I guess." Suze gave a rueful grin. "Ironic. That'd be a lucky thing until now. The same pressure points you use for someone with a migraine can make Jaeger-head a bit better, from what I heard. I'll show you."

They found Devi sitting outside Herc's room. Suze swatted her lightly, and she rolled her eyes. "Your old man's a crotchety patient," Devi informed Chuck. "He kicks everyone out."

Chuck grinned at Suze. "Well, he'll have to get used to not being able to kick me out. Show me these pressure points."

He couldn't help noticing that the medics looked relieved that he'd come back. _So this was something I was supposed to do, but my old man conveniently didn't mention it._ They demonstrated the pressure points on the scalp, jaw, and neck, and hunted down a pair of night vision glasses for him. "We've got the cold packs in the chiller next to his bed. Try and get some water in him every few hours. If he brings it back up, page a medic. We can't let him get dehydrated. It ought to start wearing off soon. Generally, attacks last about sixteen hours."

As predicted, Herc grumbled when Chuck entered the room. "Wha're you doin'?"

"My job," Chuck whispered, searching out the pressure points Suze and Devi had shown him.

His father hissed in surprise when he felt Chuck's fingers on his jaw. "Geroff. G'won, leave me alone."

"No. I'm your co-pilot, old man. Get used to it." Herc didn't have the strength to fight it out with him, and gradually, Chuck thought - or hoped - that he sensed Herc relaxing just a little through the ghost drift, and that his cautious ministrations had an effect.

What he didn't expect was the way that he himself felt better, now that he was here with his dad. Maybe the looks people had been giving him before weren't so much accusing him as much as his own conscience.

_Not Dad. Not_ just _Dad, anyway. Co-pilot. Drift partner. This is where I'm supposed to be now._ This was what he'd wanted. A co-pilot. Well... not just _a_ co-pilot. After Scott had... gone, the thought had taken root in his head even before Ketteridge approached him and opened the door to real hope. Chuck and his dad.

_But Dad didn't want me as his partner. He didn't want this, didn't want us as co-pilots._ Maybe Chuck was stupid, to still thing of it in those terms after months of drifting. He knew it wasn't like that... not really. And look at Ketteridge, jumping ship the minute Ms. Above-all-of-you-Olivia Morton got together with her do-gooder mates and raised a public stink. _The son of a bitch threw my dad under the bus._ Even before that press conference, Chuck had seen his father's perspective on Boxing Day in the drift. Right or wrong, there was no getting around it:

_They blackmailed him with Scott. They knew he blamed himself for what Scott did, and they threatened to let Scott off if he didn't do what they want. Now they act like it was all his idea._

_He's my partner now. He said he'd support me. I won't let them go after him._

* * *

Kyrra Taior was used to never being quite sure whether Susanti would spend the night in her room or in the Rangers' quarters she shared with Devi. Dating, sleeping with, even loving a Ranger meant sharing them with their partner if you weren't that partner - and woe betide anyone who thought differently. The fact that Kyrra didn't think differently was the reason she was among the _very_ few who could manage to maintain a long-term relationship with a Jaeger pilot.

The rules for Rangers and relationships were different. Susanti's sister and partner would always come before anyone else.

But not every rule of life was different. Jaeger pilots didn't live in a state of bliss. They disagreed, and they quarreled with each other. The drift couldn't heal all wounds. When Suze stalked after Kyrra following the Rangers' evening drills (only Hassans in attendance, as the Hansens were still in the dark room), Kyrra knew the sisters were fighting.

"You want to talk?"

Sometimes Suze didn't. There were some things about her relationship with Dev that she wouldn't share. Kyrra wouldn't ask her to break confidences, and she never did. But even Rangers vented sometimes.

Tonight, she did. "I thought she'd lay off the meddling when Chuck grew up. I swear, she's getting worse."

Yeah, Kyrra had marked Devi's presence outside Herc's room (probably _in_ the room if he'd allowed it). Suze's sister had a mother hen instinct the size of Tasmania, but this went beyond it. "She's got a crush on Herc."

Suze rolled her eyes and stretched like a cat on Kyrra's bed. "Yeah, noticed. The entire Pacific Rim knows: Devi Hassan and the Appeal of Older Men."

Kyrra smirked and leaned over her. "Careful there, Pot, out of all the complaints you're allowed on Kettle, that's not one." She was twelve years older than Suze - Herc's age.

Her girlfriend mock-huffed, but the color in her cheeks was proof of the point. "Yeah, well, at least I bloody _act_ on my crushes instead of mooning about for years on end." She scowled, shaking her head to Kyrra's suggestive touch. So she wasn't in the mood for distraction, just to vent. Kyrra would let her. "Especially now that Chuck's Herc's partner. She can't muck around with them like this."

Kyrra pondered her response carefully. "Part of that's still up to them, love. If Herc or Chuck have a problem with it, they'll have to speak for themselves. Dev's interference won't be helped by yours too." With a growl of her own, she added, "And Herc and Chuck are getting it from every fucking direction these days. I'm saying nothing unless one of them asks. The last thing they need is _more_ unsolicited opinions."

"I don't know how I'm going to react when we're back at the Dome, the first time that Morton woman comes swanning over."

Kyrra cackled and sat up. "Not much chance of that. She's been sacked!"

"What?!" Suze looked torn between glee and alarm. "What reason? They can't just retaliate... can they?"

"Retaliate, no. But there were only six kids left - all the teens have their high school certificates now, and the parents of the younger ones have _all_ made the call to 'find alternative education' for their ankle-biters. Ketteridge didn't put them up to it, either. Everyone's pretty well done with Olivia Morton looking down her nose at them and their kids, _and_ having rather indiscreet conversations where the kids can hear. Emmy Oliver - Danny's little sister - came home one day wanting to know 'what did Miss Morton mean when she said Chuck was prematurely sexualized by his father and uncle.'" Now Suze was torn between glee and disgust, and Kyrra smirked. "Yeah, for someone who fancies herself so educated, Morton doesn't have much sense. And there's no more kids whose parents want her educating them, so her job's redundant."

"What about your mum? Does that leave her out of a job too?"

Kyrra shook her head. "She wasn't working for the money, not since I got this job. It was just to keep her busy, and the Olivers and a couple of the other families are thinking they'll hire her themselves, just as a minder while the kids do their satellite classes."

But Suze wasn't really focused on Kyrra's mum or even the concern trolling of Chuck's former teacher. So Kyrra wasn't surprised that they eventually found their way back to the makeshift dark room to look in on Herc and Chuck - and neither one was surprised to find Devi there again.

On the other hand, Kyrra noted that the medics were at ease. "It peaked about six hours ago, now we're on the down slide," Dr. Tsai told them. "I think he'll sleep soon."

On the infrared cameras, they could see Devi wrapping Chuck in about a half-dozen blankets. "We've got the temperature in there as low as possible," said one of the orderlies. "It's good for Jaeger-head if you can keep the co-pilot from getting pneumonia."

Kyrra frowned, considering the way the younger Hansen's shoulders slumped, the way he barely responded to Devi's touches when a teen as prickly as him would normally be squirming. "How bad is the bleedover? Chuck doesn't look very well."

"By this stage, he's just worn out. Even without full-blown ghost drift, these episodes are hard on the co-pilot."

After another hour, Herc finally slept, and Chuck had his head on his arms on the edge of the bed. Suze and Devi were watching the latest media reports about the debate over Chuck's fitness to pilot. "You think they'll approve him?" Kyrra asked the sisters.

Devi and Suze were silent for so long that she thought maybe they wouldn't answer. In the end, Devi did: "They should. He's earned it."

Suze looked surprised. "I thought you were still thinking it was all too soon."

Dev shrugged. "Yeah, well... everything is. But he's met every mark. I told Herc... before, he should give Chuck a chance. We're their trainers now. It's not enough to just wait and see. There are enough people hedging their bets." She scowled. "First he's too young, then Herc's too old, and most of command can't make up their minds. We're the ones with the experience. We should."

Kyrra exchanged looks with Greg Oliver and the rest of the former Lucky Seven team. At length, they all nodded. _We're their crew. They're our Rangers. Nobody will be better for Striker Eureka than them._

A part of her still felt a pang at imagining Chuck in the conn-pod against the kaiju. Herc's little boy, the emblem of everything they were fighting for, a Dome kid, not meant to be on the front lines... but then again, she'd had nieces and nephews his age who hadn't lived to see age sixteen. Scissure hadn't cared that they were children when it stormed into Sydney, and nuclear bombs hadn't given her brothers and sisters time to get their families to safety. Not being in a conn-pod hadn't saved any of the thousands of kids who'd died in this war.

And look at the younger pilots who had preceded Chuck. Suze and Devi could barely talk about Gipsy Danger and the Beckets without tearing up, but before Knifehead, they'd had four kills to their names, and tens of thousands of people were alive with their cities undamaged because of what Raleigh and Yancy had done. The Weis had been sixteen when they'd started at Academy, if not going into combat until they were nearly twenty, but they already had multiple successful fights under their belts. Nova Hyperion's former Olympians and Hydra Corinthian's girls had gone into combat while still in their teens.

And on the flip side, the pilots of Matador Fury were Herc's age and had just dismembered Harpy after a prolonged, _very_ close-quarters battle.

Age didn't determine anything either way. The whole human race would be better served to remember that and stop looking for boxes to check off. All the rules were rewritten when it came to the kaiju.

So, speaking of breaking (bending?) the rules, Kyrra "accidentally" put a typo into an email address with the results of Herc's most recent physical exam - one that sent the email to a media watch group. Oops. Well, good thing that particular group was far more sympathetic to the Jaeger Program than to the Wall of Life advocates.

Maybe that was the final push for the next orders that came down from on high.

* * *

Herc had no idea how long he'd been suffocating in the dark, his skull compressed from the outside and his brain trying to swell its way out from the inside. Whatever drugs he'd been given turned the atmosphere into a muted sludge of awareness, but didn't dull the pain itself nearly enough. Under that layer of sludge, he could still feel the pain stabbing like gravel under his palm, like some memory from basic training.

For awhile, he measured time through the only sensation he could make out beyond his skull: the cautious pressure of Chuck's fingers moving from jaw to temples to scalp.

_"_ _What're you doing here?"_

_"_ _My job."_

Herc didn't want his boy seeing him like this, prostrated by a damned headache. But... what about a co-pilot?

It was too difficult to think like this, so he gave up and just surrendered to the haze. And somehow, his bloated mind managed to focus on the awareness that those fingertips on his face, and that faint presence at his side actually made it a little better.

Eventually, the world faded out entirely, and when he woke, his senses were reorienting to something other than pain. There weren't fingers on his scalp anymore, but he could feel the faint movement of breath near one side of his face, hear the deep breathing that he recognized as Chuck asleep. The light pressure on his wrist was his son's hand.

Something had awakened Herc, but not Chuck. The kid was a heavy sleeper at the best of times, and bedside attendance had probably worn him out.

Someone else had come in. Herc squinted and found that dim light no longer felt like a railroad spike into his brain. He could see again. Four shapes coalesced out of the mist: Devi and Suze, with Kyrra and Indra, grinning.

"How you feeling?" Kyrra whispered.

"Better," he grunted. "How long's it been? Dome still standing?"

"Better than that," Devi answered. She bent and gently shook Chuck's shoulders. Herc wanted to protest to let the kid sleep, but couldn't muster the coherence. "Oy. Wake up, there, _Ranger._ Duty calls."

"Mm? Wha?" Chuck snuffled at her insistent prodding, like Max after a nap. "Whassit?"

Suze and Kyrra grinned, and Indra winked at Herc. "Oi. _Ranger_ Chuck Hansen, report for duty."

Chuck blinked at them, then at Herc. Herc blinked back, befuddled. "What?"

The quartet were quietly laughing at them. "Oh, timing," said Suze, waving a hand airily. "Your _orders_ have come in, gentlemen. Rangers Hercules and Charles Hansen are assigned to Jaeger Striker Eureka of the Sydney Shatterdome, effective immediately."

She proffered a tablet. Herc winced and shook his head; the light was still too bright. But Chuck finally got his bearings and snatched it, and he looked younger than any Ranger should have been in the reflected glow of the screen. His eyes darted to Herc.

Herc swallowed, feeling too ragged in body or mind to know what he ought to do or say for a moment like this. Especially in the presence of the other crew. So he just nodded. "Well, that's that."

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** Team Striker Eureka prepares for launch, and our heroes grapple with carrying the torch into the future out of the shadows of painful pasts in **Chapter Twenty-Eight: Last Night's Clothes and Tomorrow's Dreams!**_
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> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
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> **Original Character Guide**
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> Olivia Morton: Licensed on-site teacher for the children of Sydney Shatterdome's family housing. Late 20s, with several degrees but little practical experience, she didn't think much of the Hansens - and they knew it. Vehemently opposed to Chuck's quest to become a Ranger at age 16.
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> Kyrra Taior: Chief Engineer for Lucky Seven, then Striker Eureka. Aboriginal, Herc's age. Youngest and sole surviving daughter of Marian Taior, an elderly aboriginal woman who occasionally looked after Chuck when he was younger.
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> Greg Oliver: Herc's comrade and fellow chopper pilot from before K-Day, now a support pilot for Lucky Seven. Like Herc, he joined the Jaeger Program in the wake of Scissure. He lost his parents and his oldest daughter, Karina, in the attack. His son, Danny, was accepted into the Jaeger Academy after four tries despite lower academic scores than Chuck, and is now pilot of Tacit Ronin.


	28. Last Night's Clothes and Tomorrow's Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Striker Eureka prepares for launch to end a year of controversy, and our heroes grapple with carrying the torch into the future out of the shadows of painful pasts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** _ _Thank you all so much for the wonderful feedback! Events in this chapter are also covered by Tales From The Front Lines in Chapter Three, if you want a different perspective on the launch of Striker Eureka and "Jaeger-dancing."_

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: Last Night's Clothes and Tomorrow's Dreams**

_Sydney Shatterdome…  
August 1, 2020…_

Tacit Ronin and Horizon Brave's re-launches came first. They were rather solemn affairs, overshadowed by mourning for Jing and Min Li and Kaori Jessop, and the knowledge that Duc Jessop had retired from public life and probably wouldn't live much longer.

Public opinion was swinging back in favor of the Jaeger Program. The antics of the Buenakai actually helped that. The kaiju worshippers stepped up their recruiting and their anti-PPDC rhetoric, and only earned a powerful pushback from the general population.

The Rangers and crews themselves stayed apart from the debates – most of the time. (Well, Stephanie Lanphier left a Buenakai flat on his back with one punch after he made the mistake of calling the Knifehead attack a victory for the gods, and Eden Assassin's Peter Lepp had to be dragged away from some Russian paparazzo who tried to goad him about whether the Wall of Life wasn't a better investment in his young daughter's future.)

"So…fucking…low," Devi fumed on the vid comm to Stephanie and Kennedy.

_"_ _Did you notice that Aleksis Kaidanovsky 'accidentally' backhanded the guy when he and Sasha were pulling Pete away?_ " Kennedy crowed.

"Served the dirtbag right," said Suze. "If the press and the politicians want to jerk off over who's got the biggest wall, fine, but leave the underage kids out of it."

Steffie made a face. _"Except that now Australia's got an underage kid_ in _it."_ Devi and Suze stared, and she hastily raised her hands. _"Hey, I've seen the training vids. Chuck Hansen's amazing. But… it does seem a little weird from this side of the lake, babes. That this Academy class graduated two guys under eighteen, it's like… a lot of people think it seems like a last stand._ "

Devi and Suze were both thinking the same thing, and it was Suze who voiced it. "The same could've been said of Raleigh." She tried to take the sting out of it, but… well, nothing really could. "And it's not really comparable to some paparazzo bringing up Pete Lepp's ten-year-old and suggesting to Pete's face that he's the reason she's less safe."

_"_ _Yeah, you're right._ "

That vid chat ended awkwardly. Team Vulcan and Team Hydra had never been on awkward terms before, which only added to Devi's feeling that everything about their lives had changed in just a few months.

_God, I miss them._ Suze didn't have to say it out loud. Devi wrapped an arm around her and let her sister press her face into her shoulder.

"Do you think Rals is okay? Out there?"

"I… guess we just have to hope so."

Devi had once urged Herc to let Raleigh go, to give him his freedom - but it was a struggle to hold herself and Suze to that same plea. To wonder almost every day where he was, if he was safe... she supposed it was too much to hope that he was happy, wherever he was. It might be too much to hope he'd ever be happy again.

_But this is what he wanted_ , she reminded herself, again and again. _We can't give him happiness, we can't give him peace or closure... all we can give him is what he's asked for. To let him alone._

* * *

Devi tried to distract herself with duties as trainers for the newly-christened Striker Eureka as the countdown for October's launch began. If all went well, Vulcan would be back on duty in Sydney in late September, just before the planned launch of the Mark-5. There was a lot to do, both to get Team Vulcan back on track and to prep their sort-of-newbies... or maybe that was just what she and Suze and Indra told themselves so they wouldn't have to think about the Jaeger and crew who wouldn't be standing on ceremony that launch day.

The Hassans didn't use the magnetic chess set when they played against each other. Actually they didn't play each other much at all anymore. They kept it in the utility bay where the crews hung out and played more often than ever against Chuck. That was comforting in a roundabout way, to think they were keeping alive something of Raleigh and Yance from when the two of them had been happy.

In the Kwoon, outside of drills and training formations... they danced.

That was a bit odd when Devi stopped to think about it, and she was vaguely surprised that the Psych Analysts hadn't jumped on it. Unless she'd had a few drinks, generally Devi Hassan didn't care for dancing.

Maybe it was because by any reckoning, for once, Devi wasn't the poorest dancer on the floor when Herc and Chuck Hansen were around. It made practicing really bloody funny; the two of them were so alike - lumbering like a couple of drunk grizzly bears. Knowing they were dancing must have psyched them out somehow. With fighting and kata drills, they were nimble and light on their feet.

Whatever ailed them, Devi often suffered from the same affliction. She could complete drills, katas in a dozen different forms, and even capoeira stroke and step-perfect almost without thinking, but when it came to a dance, even one modified into a drill by Stephanie and Kennedy or the Tunaris, she turned into a complete klutz.

But it was fun, no matter how ridiculous they all looked. And fun was hard to come by.

Interestingly, Herc and Chuck were gradually relaxing in each other's company after the long cold war they'd been waging. Devi wondered if they were finally sorting out all their issues, or if it was just the drift.

_Does it matter?_ Drifting could be a mixed blessing when partners quarreled. It was easier to air grievances, concede, and even apologize without having to resort to words. But the Psychs would be the first to warn that that kind of communication wasn't healthy. Devi and Suze hadn't been hesitant about expressing their emotions in words for a very long time, so the risk of dependence on the drift was minimal for partners like them, at least according to their shrinks.

For men in general, especially Herc and Chuck Hansen... Devi wondered sometimes. But Suze tended to poke her in the ribs when she thought about it too much, and would whisper in her head or out loud, "Not your business, Sis."

She and Suze still exchanged sly grins when they spotted Herc and Chuck practicing something that definitely wasn't regular drills or even the synch dance that the Academy had taught. It looked... suspiciously like Michael Jackson.

"We know nothing," they agreed, and so did Striker Eureka's crew - even when the Hansens were executing some maneuvers in the simulator that were definitely not ordinary Jaeger motion drills.

There were long-range cameras and even effing drones pointing lenses at the Brisbane testing grounds as the Australian winter wound to a close and temperatures started to rise. Striker Eureka was damned impressive. He'd be able to outmaneuver Vulcan Specter and even possibly Shaolin Rogue. He might very well win an arm-wrestling contest against Chrome Brutus. He'd be faster than any Jaeger ever in service.

Herc and Chuck turned out to be capable of incredible sneakiness when they put both of their minds to it. Only the most observant and experienced pilots and techs recognize the extra steps and maneuvers that were tacked on to the drills they performed in Striker... and then, probably only a portion of those would work out exactly what Team Striker was practicing.

Nobody in the media ever caught on, which made the buildup to launch day that much sweeter.

Vulcan was cleared to return to active duty and transferred back to Sydney a month before Striker's planned launch. Herc and Chuck accompanied them all for on-site pre-deployment practices, even though Striker was still in his pre-launch cocoon in Brisbane.

* * *

Shortly after the next kaiju engagement - Central America again on September 20 - Sydney was where the crews had their next media-induced heart attack.

**_Young Ranger-to-Be Solicited Prostitutes...but What For?_ **

Bloody melodramatic headline writers.

_Several young women in the poorest neighborhoods of the kaiju-ravaged Sydney have told media sources that 17-year-old Charles Hansen has been seen in and around the street corners and brothels where they work - but his reason is a shocker._

_"He's like a missionary," one anonymous sex worker told us. "Or like a missionary for missionaries. He hasn't got a lot of money, but he's given cash to some girls, the younger ones, and cards for the rehab houses and shelters."_

_"He told me I shouldn't stay out here," an underage girl reported. "He said I was gonna [sic] get hurt and gave me fifty dollars. He said he'd get me a truck ticket if I wanted."_

_Some of the working girls we heard about weren't interested in being interviewed. Those who were directed us to three teenaged orphans who had taken Hansen up on his suggestions and offers of help and left the streets, but none of them were willing to comment._

_What does this tell us about Chuck Hansen? Some of his peers and even his former teacher, Olivia Morton, have described him as maladjusted, arrogant, and volatile. But this new image is of a young philanthropist, at least interested in helping the less fortunate. The people he's assisted report that he's not the friendliest bloke, but his brusque nature actually gained some ground with the street-hardened poor who don't have much use for "do-gooders."_

_What's driving this enigmatic young pilot, no one can say, but rumors suggest it might have something to do with the fate of his uncle and predecessor, Scott Hansen, who mysteriously vanished from the Jaeger Program in December 2019. Unconfirmed reports speak of out-of-control gambling and sexual misconduct._

Well, if the reporters writing the story didn't know what to think... they weren't alone there. It wasn't until Devi and Suze had got a grip on their own panic that it dawned on them: the one person who hadn't shown utter horror had been Herc.

He'd been startled by the article, no question, and had motioned Chuck from the rec room when the story was first circulated, but... that wasn't disapproval in his eyes. Devi and Suze knew by then what it looked like.

* * *

The way the crews looked at Chuck in the first few hours after that story broke was rankling. Some of them were casting side-eyes at him just from the headlines alone, and he heard some of the indiscreet mutterings around corners and through open doors.

_"For a second I thought we had another Scott on our hands."_

_"Yeah, that's all we need."_

_"Bloody weird."_

Chuck avoided looking at his old man unless he absolutely had to, and struggled not to cringe when they made their way to the simulator lab for their next scheduled round. Herc had been conspicuously silent on this new scandal, but as they prepped for their next sim run, Chuck knew there would be no avoiding it.

He was right... sort of.

Herc waited until the crew exited the sim pod, for that few-minute interim where the cameras might not have started up yet to say quietly, "You can't do that again, Chuck."

"I know."

"It's dangerous. Both our priorities have to be the Jaeger."

Chuck sighed. "I know. I get it. I won't go back."

He should have known better than to think his old man would be glad of what he'd been trying to accomplish. Herc cringed now over everything associated with Scott. He wanted to forget it all, and loathed the fact that sometimes he couldn't.

Chuck was glad enough to forget about Scott, but forgetting about those girls hadn't been so easy. He'd known that sooner or later someone would recognize him, he mused silently as the sim pod revved up. He'd known Herc would make him stop -

" _Prepare for neural handshake, Rangers_."

He sighed to himself and quit thinking about it. Herc wouldn't appreciate that either.

Then the drift space surged up around them, and Chuck gasped aloud.

_Pride... like a hot spring instead of the cold lake in the drift, it washed over him..._

_That's my son... my son...proudproudproud..._

_Herc had known from the first glance that Chuck wasn't anything like Scott... he'd known in a split-second what Chuck had been doing - no, bad idea, not safe, not smart, pilots shouldn't be doing that especially not someone as controversial as Chuck, but - proud..._

_...that's my kid. Look there, Morton, and the rest of you high and mighty suits telling everyone he's a budding sociopath. How you like them apples?_

Normally their after-images in the bluish drift space were side-by-side, just as they were in the real world. But at this moment, Herc was in front of him. Chuck floated back a little, dazed and warm and awkward, but it wasn't like the real world, where you could look down to avoid someone's eyes.

Through the drift, he could see in Herc's eyes what never came out in the real world. Chuck drifted towards his dad -

" _Neural handshake 100%, strong and holding. You guys ready?_ "

They blinked back into the here and now.

Yeah, they had a job to do. Couldn't waste time on anything else. Chuck shook it off, and Herc shook it off. As one, they shared the mental image of Max when he came out of the rain, and it made them both smile as they shook it down from head to toe.

"Right hemisphere, calibrating."

"Left hemisphere, calibrating."

_"Looking good, Striker Eureka. Stand by for scenario._ "

Max was getting painted onto Striker's shoulder as they spoke, much to Sarla Johar's delight. Chuck and Herc had perused the Internet for a plush or squeaky toy in the shape of a bomb, but finding none, had commissioned a teen back at Richmond base who had a cottage toy industry to make them one. They'd present Max with it for the launch festivities.

Chuck had asked for a pilot jacket for Striker for his birthday, but the crews put him off. "It's tradition," Indra Hassan explained. "No pilot gets the jacket until launch day."

But they did let him get a peek at his new, fully-customized drivesuit and battle armor. "Khaki, really?" Kyrra complained. "Couldn't you give them something flashier?"

"It's not a fashion show," Herc snorted. "I like the browns. More like my old uniform than those spangly things some of American crews wear."

"And it matches the inside of the pod," Chuck agreed. Devi and Suze's drivesuits were a darker brown, more earthy, but some artistic crew had since added small red, orange, and black highlights near the neck, hands and feet, which went well with their volcanic theme.

"You want anything in your grooves?" one of the drivesuit crew asked. "That's getting to be a thing nowadays."

"Grooves?" Chuck frowned at his dad, but Herc didn't know what the techs were talking about either. Even Devi and Suze looked puzzled.

"Oh, yeah, that's new," said Indra. "The battle armor is two hard layers with a soft layer in between, but they can't seal to each other completely because of the circuitry suit current. So the inside of the hard layers - the outer slices of bread, you could say - it's marked up with 'micro-grooves.' The computers used to do it at random, but Team Hydra's designers got the bright idea of writing things. Kennedy LaRue's father is Cajun, and she has this book of old invocations, good-luck charms, that kind of thing that she carries around everywhere. It's transcribed word-for-word in her chest plate. You can't read it unless you take the armor apart and look at it under a microscope. Steffie Lanphier has _Evangeline_ and a hymn that one of her ancestors wrote. A lot of the South Americans have prayers, names of loved ones, some of them even have pictures. Artwork."

Chuck was intrigued, but couldn't think for the life of him what words of images would move him enough to make him want to have them written inside his armor.

Well, except...

"Nice idea," said Herc gruffly. "I doubt I can dream up anything artistic, but I'll let you know."

It didn't make a lot of sense for them to bother not telling each other what they asked for, because it zoomed in front of their eyes on their very next drift.

_Angela Jane Clarke Hansen.  
Of all passions the strongest._

That had been engraved in their wedding rings, from the Lao Tzu quote they both liked: _Love is of all passions the strongest, for it attacks simultaneously the head, the heart, and the senses._

* * *

_August 14, 2020…_

Herc's seventeenth birthday gift to Chuck was quick, quiet, and unceremonious, but that was just as well, because Chuck couldn't have stood more than that.

His old man wore two wedding bands on the chain that carried his dog tags: his own, and an old one of his wife's. Chuck's mum hadn't been able to resize her old ring when her fingers swelled while she was pregnant with him. Their budget for rings hadn't been very high when they first decided to get married. She and Herc had bought a new set of nicer rings as a gift to each other shortly before Chuck was born. But Herc hadn't been able to bear getting rid of Angela's old one, so he'd kept it in on his dog tags even in the RAAF.

That ring, he gave to Chuck. Even in just a few years of marriage before Chuck was born, the engraving on the old ring had faded, but Chuck could still read it. He'd picked that and her name for his groove over his heart without even consciously realizing that his old man had the exact same thing.

Or maybe they both knew it and were just too self-conscious to admit it. Well, who cared? They couldn't possibly be the only ones who had lost family's names and memories in their engraving.

With Herc and Chuck's ambivalent permission, the newly-assigned crew of Striker Eureka got the rest of the "groove space" to add their own attempts at art and good luck. Among the more homogeneous teams, a single person could read and translate all the writing from the Ranger and crew in the battle armor grooves. For Team Striker, it was different. Once the main plates were done, the J-techs showed Herc and Chuck the finished product, delicately laser-etched across each surface with lines and lines of writing and symbols from languages, lore, and religions all over the world. The content ranged from sacred to profane (literally - both of them had dirty jokes from some of the more colorful officers). But Chuck liked it and knew Herc did too. Somehow, it fit them both. He didn't consider himself spiritual or superstitious, but it was a little comforting, to think he had a note on his armor written from every single person who worked with his Jaeger.

_His_ Jaeger. Striker Eureka.

Okay, their Jaeger.

It was easier to agree on things when they didn't actually have to talk about them. Chuck was surprised that his old man agreed so readily to the idea of keeping in with a certain pre-combat tradition... but felt Herc's scoff through the drift. _I'm military, kid, you think we didn't have other non-regulation rituals?_

Apparently for newly-minted chopper pilots, the tradition had been to fly a training circuit wearing nothing but boots and dog tags -

_AUUUGH! Too bloody much information!_

Herc laughed out loud, and Chuck was relieved no end that nobody who wasn't there in the drift could have known what his old man was laughing about.

It struck him after, in the hours that followed his face finally going un-red, that he and his old man had acted out a scene that Chuck had long envied with the other pilots. He'd watched plenty of simulator and test maneuver runs by the Hassans, Flint and Amarok, the Girards, and other crews - sudden bursts of inexplicable laughter or groans, simultaneous grins and gestures. All those little signs said there was a conversation going on that nobody else in the world was privy to.

Chuck had wanted that. Now he had it. Even though it wasn't exactly the utopia he'd imagined... then again, maybe it was his expectations that'd been wrong, rather than the connection he did have.

_We're drift compatible, after all. That we can pilot Striker is proof of that._

They could agree on some things, like painting Sarla Johar's drawing of Max with his bomb onto Striker's shoulder as their official logo, and secretly practicing the moonwalk for their first public maneuvers in Sydney.

* * *

Herc might not have been on board with making Striker do a full performance if not for the knowledge that it would really set Ketteridge's teeth on edge. He'd been ready to shit kittens when Talon Tasmania had done it, and blamed them for putting Herc and Scott up to it in Lucky Seven. Tamsin Sevier had insisted that if it had been Herc and Scott who'd started the fashion, Ketteridge would have been fine with it. Herc suspected she was right. Since the foreign-born team had been the trendsetter, Ketteridge had planted his flag against making Jaegers dance, and Herc was now unashamedly glad of an opportunity to stick it to him.

And... well, the whole bloody Jaeger Program could really use something to smile about.

Among the new crew who were assigned to Team Striker Eureka came some experienced personnel from across the lake: Tendo Choi accepted the position of Striker's LOCCENT chief. There were other crew formerly from Team Gipsy Danger as well: Personnel Coordinator Hien Nguyen, a US Marine pilot named Valentina Medina, and a few munitions and drivesuit techs.

Herc worried that Chuck's resentment of Raleigh Becket's role in Herc's pre-testing considerations would pass along to Gipsy Danger's former crew, but to his relief (and, he had to admit, to Chuck's credit) the kid didn't betray any bitterness. Herc did grin when he welcomed Tendo to the Southern Hemisphere. "Got over your fear of our local wildlife, hey?"

"I just won't leave the building," Tendo replied, feigning nervousness.

Medina waved dismissively. "It can't be any worse than southwest Texas."

"Ready to put that to the test, love?" asked Greg Oliver, shaking his fellow pilot's hand.

"Well, you know. Change of scenery." The brief, heavy silence that followed spoke volumes, but after, all of them came to a mutual, unspoken agreement from first introduction never to talk about what - or who - the new arrivals had left behind in Anchorage.

They all seized on the more spurious plot in progress with more enthusiasm than probably necessary, but launch preparations and dance preparations were a badly needed distraction. As far as Herc was concerned, that was all the justification they needed.

So he and Chuck started first their pilot-to-pilot conspiracy, working out the routine by taking a careful, subtle interest in old videos of Michael Jackson performances, then by arranging the steps cautiously in between tests in the simulator. They slipped a thumb drive with a few recordings and videos and some cryptic comments on a post-it note to Kyrra. She'd pass it along to anyone who wanted to join in.

_We really shouldn't be doing this. It could be dangerous, it's wasteful of resources and attention... we really shouldn't._

Well, fuck that. They did it.

They even managed to practice the whole routine in the simulator when the lab techs, with much nudging and winking, discovered a "problem with the recording" so that the session didn't get circulated to the tacticians or the commanding officers.

When and where the crews practiced, Herc and Chuck couldn't say, so at least they all had plausible deniability. Pilots were never around whenever the crew organized their practice, and the crew at least pretended not to notice when Herc and Chuck worked on theirs.

* * *

_PPDC Jaeger Assembly Facility, Brisbane, Australia…  
October 1, 2020…_

A few days before launch, Herc and Chuck happened into the quartermaster's office only to find several of their senior crew already there. There was an explosion of hisses and scramble to hide what they'd been looking at. Startled at first, Herc and Chuck quickly worked out the reason for the conspiracy and laughed, and Chuck playfully attempted to muscle his way through to get a peek.

"Not 'till launch day!" Kyrra admonished.

Chuck mock-pouted. "Not even the design?"

"Nope!"

He folded his arms. "Now I know where you've stashed it, so maybe I'll break in after-hours."

"Security!" bellowed the quartermaster, and everyone roared.

Greg Oliver manhandled them both out by the collars. "Come on, come on, show some proper respect for tradition! You two are officially banned from launch prep."

After that, their crew old and new made a big show of "escorting" them around base, claiming they didn't trust either pilot not to try and get a look at the various launch day regalia and gifts being prepared.

"Aw, come on, I've even done it before!" Herc protested when Kyrra and Tendo made them wear blindfolds in the drivesuit room before testing.

"If I have to suffer through this, so do you," Chuck retorted, but through the ghost drift, Herc could feel him laughing.

In the drift between conn-pod calibration tests, Chuck was the one who steered them towards the memories of Lucky Seven's launch on New Year's Eve, 2015. Herc didn't mind - not at first, anyway. The jackets had come for the launch, but it'd been too hot to be comfortable in them sometimes, especially at the height of summer, but the PR reps had complained when their pilots didn't wear the gear outside. So the crew had designed vests for Herc and Scott. Marshal Ketteridge had protested that it looked too informal, but Scott had brushed him off. _"We're Australian, not Brits. We're not meant to be fancy and starched._ " The crew had chorused their agreement, and Ketteridge had relented. Unless they were on an active drop, Herc and Scott had worn their vests rather than their jackets.

But amid all busy days of launch prep, Herc had forgotten all about the fate of his Lucky Seven bomber jacket. It flowed into their view in the drift before he had a chance to warn Chuck:

_The night he got back from Manila, Chuck had finally gone to sleep. He walked into his empty room and stared at the bunk beds. Someone, maybe just out of habit, had cleaned their jackets and left them hanging from the end of the bunk frame._

_Herc stared at them. Lucky was gone, her superstructure pummeled and shredded in Manila Bay. Scott was in military prison, forever if Herc had anything to say about it. Two girls younger than Chuck were dead in pain and terror. Had he been wearing this? No, but they might have at least seen his PPDC gear and imagined he was just a soldier looking for adventure, a potentially-generous customer. Maybe they'd recognized him, thought a Ranger wouldn't possibly hurt them..._

"Dad?"

_...he yanked both jackets off the hangers, balling them under his arms so he wouldn't have to look at them. It was late, and there was no one in the halls as he hurried down to the lower levels and threw them into the trash incinerator. He watched them burn with his fist pressed against his teeth to hold back the lump in his throat -_

"Dad!"

"Warning: Right hemisphere losing alignment."

Herc sucked in a lungful of air and hauled himself back into the present: the conn-pod with Chuck, not Scott. "Sorry."

They'd have jackets for Striker Eureka now, not Lucky Seven. He could leave all that behind. He cringed mentally from his son's dismay in the drift. Where was the line between sympathy and pity? He didn't want either, but in the drift, there was no stopping it from Chuck's end and no avoiding it from Herc's.

In a few days, he'd leave that past a little further behind. They'd have new jackets, probably new vests. He'd had the quartermaster throw out everything else of Scott's a few days after returning to Sydney, but now it occurred to him that his Lucky Seven vest was still in his trunk. He'd get rid of it.

_No. Don't do that,_ Chuck startled him by saying in his head _._

_Why not? It's just another reminder of shit I'd like to forget._ His mind's voice even sounded cross, but his kid didn't leave off.

There wasn't any point in trying to leave off, not in the drift. So although Chuck didn't speak aloud and risk the psychs catching on to what was bothering his old man, he did say, _Forget him if you want - that fucker deserves to be forgotten. But not Lucky. She was half-yours. You killed Ningyo in her and saved Davao Gulf. All those people there wouldn't want you to forget. They won't._

_The PR reps would have hernias if they saw me wearing Lucky gear. The Corps would just as soon forget._

In the pod, Chuck was looking ahead at their HUD and out the view ports onto the testing grounds as they worked. But in the drift, his blue-tinted after-image studied Herc. _I don't think so. There's less than half the Mark-1's left. Barely half of their pilots. People like knowing there's still experienced pilots around._

Was that to suggest that Chuck thought his father wasn't washed up? Herc grinned to himself as the kid snorted aloud. _You've been talking to Dahari too much._

_Eff off, old man. Maybe you need a good headshrinking before you try to trash history, else it'll be that much stronger in the drift._

Well, damn. The kid had him there, but even in the drift, Herc wasn't about to acknowledge it. (Not that there was any use denying it, since in the drift, they both knew it.)

He still couldn't bring himself to request meetings with Dr. Dahari outside the regular schedule, even though he knew Chuck had swallowed his pride and done it more than once. But at his post-simulation solo session with her, he asked, "You wondering about that lapse this morning?"

She leaned back in her seat, studying her tablet. "It wasn't a severe strain on the handshake, if that's what you mean."

It was nice that she didn't start probing every little slip, giving him the option of not talking about anything that hadn't put the drift at risk. Ironically, that was what made it easier for Herc _and_ Chuck to broach a little more. "I was thinking... I trashed my Lucky jacket, right after - it happened. But I've still got the vest. I was gonna trash it, but Chuck thinks I should hang onto it."

"Somehow I doubt he thinks it should be a reminder of your failure."

The noise that came out of Herc's throat at that was somewhere between a chuckle and a groan. "Nah, the kid can be petty, but not that petty. And - it's weird, out of all the things I've screwed up, he doesn't think that's one of them."

Dr. Dahari put her tablet down and considered him. "Did you know that before you drifted with him? That he doesn't blame you for Scott's actions?"

"Well... yeah, he'd said it before. I told him what happened before we first drifted, since I knew he had to be ready. He said then it wasn't my fault, but..." She waited and let him work up to it. "I guess I didn't quite believe him for awhile." Herc shook his head, not even really talking to her anymore. "I fucked up so many things. Why _wouldn't_ he blame me?"

After a few moments, she answered. "Because he's not a fool. You and Chuck have a lot in common - like your tendency to hold grudges," she added.

Herc chuckled. "Touché."

"But you're both intelligent men with strong reasoning skills, _and_ the gift or curse of being able to see into each other's minds as well as Scott's. Through drifting with you, Chuck can't escape knowing what your brother's motives were and the limits to your influence over him."

Herc looked down. "I knew he hated them. It started just a petty thing, him jealous and ticked off that they wanted none of his 'flirting.' But it got to be more than that. I knew it. He started fantasizing about... hurting them. Or worse. Not just them either, every woman. I only called him on it the once, and he said it was just drift fantasy, so I dropped it. That was two months before he picked up a teenaged girl in Sydney and left her dead under a bridge."

"The investigators compared your simulator logs with the time of the attacks. You didn't drift with Scott between the Sydney attack and Manila. Chuck knew that without ever looking at any reports."

Yeah, Herc had worked out the dates in his head without having to look at the reports either. But something in his mind kept screaming that he should have done something, should've _said_ something. "There were things I did see, though. The way he treated women in the Corps. I didn't say enough. I looked the other way."

Dr. Dahari had the decency to not coddle him. "And that part will always be on your conscience. But unlike Scott, you and Chuck have both learned better, and changed your behavior. You both have reasons to be angry at the world, but you do your best not to take it out on anyone else. You know where violent misogyny and sexual harassment can lead, and that no victim is beneath notice. There may have been more that you could have said and done to prevent his crimes, but you're not responsible for them. You have a lot of respect from a lot of different quarters in the Corps and outside of it. It's only grown because of what you learned after Manila."

After he left Dr. Dahari's office, while Chuck was taking his turn, Herc went back to quarters and dug down into the bottom of his trunk for the vest. After a few minutes of staring at it, he pulled it on and looked in the bathroom mirror. He'd forgotten how comfortable the thing was.

He left it on to go to the mess hall, and walked in on a group of Team Striker working on a dance routine in the officers' lounge. They didn't chase him out this time, just threw a lot of winks at him. "Any new choreography?"

"Not really," said Tendo. "Just timing, 'cause we stop for Striker's solos. C'mere, you can stand in for him."

Herc swore the moonwalk was easier in a conn-pod than out (at least for him) but there wasn't much opportunity for surreptitious rehearsal, so he did it. Through the ghost drift, he felt his son's glee.

* * *

Sometimes Tendo felt guilty, preparing for the launch of another Jaeger and all the fanfare that went with it. Should he really be snickering through plans to outrage the brass with a dancing Jaeger when Yancy's body was still drifting somewhere in the Gulf of Alaska and Raleigh had simply vanished?

Sydney's chief medic, Dr. Tsai, was on to the former Team Gipsy crew from day one. She had encouraged all of them to talk to the psychs. That wasn't first on Tendo's list of options by a long shot, but he did find himself talking to Tina Medina. She'd been the latest addition to Team Gipsy before Knifehead, the replacement pilot for the Whiskey Gamma's strike troop crew that they'd lost in the wake of Hardship in January 2019. Tina had been raised Catholic, like Tendo, and she'd been around. She knew what was on a lot of their minds.

"I know, it'd be stupid to say nobody in the Jaeger Program should ever have fun again," he mused, after they slipped away from a clandestine flash mob practice.

"Maybe not productive, but not stupid ether," Tina told him. "It's normal. I was in combat eight years before K-Day. I know how that goes. There's no shame in it. It has to take its course."

Tendo nodded. "We appreciated - how you understood, when you got here. Whiskey Gamma and Hardship, that was the first time Team Gipsy'd lost crew. It was rough." _Thank God they didn't live to see this._ It went through like a wave all over again, damn it: Yancy and Raleigh, and also Antwan Ferrier, Nikki Harris, Brandon Pines and the rest of the crew from Whiskey Gamma. "When's it getting better?" he mumbled around his tight throat.

"It will." He appreciated her voice even if he couldn't look at her anymore. So level and resolved. "Keep moving. Keep focused. We've got a lot to do for launch, to get Striker and her crew ready. Volunteer for extra duty if you need to keep busy. Keep moving."

So he did. He drilled and exercised and threw himself into getting oriented in the Sydney Shatterdome so Striker Eureka would be deployment ready as of launch day. It was good to be working with Indra Hassan again, to catch up with Susanti and Devi.

As for his new crew, Tendo liked Herc Hansen. Chuck Hansen was an intriguing kid, and the way the Australian personnel regarded him was interesting too. The closest crew as well as Team Vulcan were as devoted to him as Tendo and Team Gipsy and their Dome mates had been to Raleigh. But even the ones who plainly loved Chuck weren't about to deny that he was often grumpy, brusque, and completely full of it. There were others, mostly on the periphery, who were dismissive of him and didn't think much of Herc's parenting skills.

But Tendo was always more inclined to accept the Hassans' assessment of character, and when all was said and done, they thought well of the youngest-ever pilot. "He's prickly sometimes," Indra Hassan acknowledged. "A lot of the Sydney kids were. Most only survived Scissure by chance, and all of 'em lost family." He scowled to himself. "And that teacher didn't do a lot of them much good. Getting Chuck a dog did more to heal him than anything that Morton woman ever said."

"Hey, therapy animals. It's proven to help kids - hell, adults too," said Tendo. He'd seen the way the crews often stopped what they were doing to give Max a scratch and smiled when Herc or Chuck went by with the bulldog on their way for his walks. He gave Indra a weak smile. "Maybe I oughta get one."

He didn't, but as Tina predicted, it all did get better. Laughing and joking started to come back to him, and so did dancing.

Sometimes he saw Herc looking a bit hesitant, but whatever scruples the elder Ranger had were overruled. "He's wearing his Lucky gear again," remarked Indra, looking pleased. "I was afraid he never would."

"I don't think it bothers anyone here. Chuck doesn't seem to mind." He gave his friend a sad smile. "I think all of us have our Gipsy gear in our trunks. It'd be nice, to get to the point where we could just remember the good times."

"It does get easier," Indra told him. "You keep looking forward because looking backward hurts too much. Then one day you forget and look back and realize later on that it didn't hurt that time."

"So what's forward, apart from the moonwalk?" Tendo asked slyly.

They smirked at each other, but then Indra glanced up at the sound of Max barking nearby, and gestured across the bay floor. Family housing in the PPDC bases had its privileges, like getting to view a Jaeger before its launch. The elderly babysitter who had once watched Chunk had now brought the handful of younger kids from Sydney to see Striker. Chuck seemed surprisingly mellow in the cluster of chattering, breathless preteens, now the drivesuited Ranger fielding their questions and letting them lavish affection on Max.

"Them," Indra said, lowering his voice. "They're 'forward.' Just like he was - still is. It seemed a little weird when we first got to Sydney, hearing it actually had family housing with kids on-site. None of us really thought of ourselves as kid people outside family. But seeing them so often, it means something. What we're fighting for. What we want to win for.

Tendo hadn't considered himself a kid person either, but he could see exactly what Indra meant. "Yeah, I get that."

It had been similar to the way they'd all adored Raleigh, and the other younger crew. Losing him for all intents and purposes along with Yancy still hurt like hell, but... here was Chuck Hansen. Full of spunk and fire, the same age Raleigh had been at the beginning, about to launch the most sophisticated Jaeger in history, to stand guard over the Shatterdome where he'd grown up and a half-dozen younger kids who still lived here.

Those kids were going to go nuts when they saw what Team Striker had planned for the post-launch tradition. Maybe that was another reason Herc had been in favor of it. _Hope. Keeping an eye on the future until the past doesn't hurt so much. Hanging onto the things that make us laugh._

And so, four days after Striker Eureka arrived at Sydney Shatterdome, Tendo charged onto the tarmac with the rest of the crew and danced to _Billie Jean,_ led by Striker Eureka in the moonwalk.

They brought the house down all around the world.

Australia greenlit a coastal wall of its own, but the Prime Minister hastened to assure the public, "This is not to suggest in any way that we have lost faith in the Jaeger Program. On the contrary. Our intention is to improve the perimeter on our coastal cities in support of our armed forces and our Jaegers, to increase the time available for our civilians to evacuate and for the Jaegers to respond to a kaiju attack."

On the other hand, the Buenakai were starting to make more public statements of their own. " _Neither your walls nor your unholy idols can halt the advance of the gods! Striker Eureka is the pinnacle of humanity's backward thinking. We should be embracing the messengers, not spending $150 billion in a war machine to defend our worldly desires. You will not win a battle against a god!_ "

The official response from the Jaeger Program's public relations personnel and pilots was stony silence.

But as for the unofficial response...

On December 19, 2020, Los Angeles faced its second kaiju attack from Goad, a Category III. He was the smallest in years, barely bigger than Clawhook, and the US Shatterdomes deployed Yankee Star and Chrome Brutus. Yankee landed her second laurels as defender of Los Angeles, but after the sharpshooter had blown and burned some gorgeous holes in the kaiju, Chrome got the final blow - and what a blow it was.

In sight of the kaiju worshippers' huge temple, Chrome Brutus seized Goad by his back legs and whipped him like a metronome in every direction into the ground. Nobody who'd seen the Avengers missed the reference, and everyone agreed that it was well worth the reprimands for Chrome to take a few steps towards the temple so Zeke Amarok could announce on the external com: _"Puny god._ "

Speaking of moves that brought the house down! YouTube was promptly flooded with clips of crowds around the world, packed into sports bars, alert shelters, and even the bunkers in Los Angeles watching on TV, leaping to their feet as if it was the winning touchdown in the Super Bowl. The Shatterdomes were no exception. Tendo and the crew screamed until they were hoarse and only stopped just to howl with laughter.

And, well... Tendo couldn't help remembering then who would've loved the Hulk call-back the most: _Yance._ Then he cried. But then he laughed again, and it felt a little better.

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** _ _Stacker Pentecost, exiled to Hawaii after surrendering command of the Anchorage Shatterdome, learns that the Jaeger Program_ _still needs commanders willing to fight for their Rangers when he's called to mediate a growing scandal in Hong Kong in_ _**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Still In The Game!** _
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Kyrra Taior: Chief Engineer for Lucky Seven, then Striker Eureka. Aboriginal, Herc's age. Youngest and sole surviving daughter of Marian Taior, an elderly aboriginal woman who occasionally looked after Chuck when he was younger.
> 
> Greg Oliver: Herc's comrade and fellow chopper pilot from before K-Day, now a support pilot for Lucky Seven. Like Herc, he joined the Jaeger Program in the wake of Scissure. He lost his parents and his oldest daughter, Karina, in the attack. His son, Danny, was accepted into the Jaeger Academy after four tries despite lower academic scores than Chuck, and is now pilot of Tacit Ronin.
> 
> Valentina (Tina) Medina: Support chopper pilot, formerly of one of Gipsy Danger's strike troop command choppers. Part of the crew that replaced twelve of Gipsy's support personnel who died in the aftermath of the battle with Hardship. Mexican-American from Corpus Christi, Texas, mid-30s, active duty US Marines.
> 
> Hien Nguyen: Strike trooper formerly with Gipsy Danger, National Guard transplant, Vietnamese-American in her early 30s.
> 
> Dr. Ramya Dahari: Head of the Hansens' team of Psych Analysts, recruited specially by Caitlin Lightcap and Stacker Pentecost (though Herc and Chuck don't know that.) Late-30s, Malaysian.
> 
> Sarla Johar: A teen in Sydney Shatterdome's family housing, Indian-Australian, age 15, orphaned by Scissure and adopted by her aunt, who was on Lucky Seven's crew. Like Chuck, she planned to attend the Academy, and is also a talented artist. She drew the picture of Max with the bomb which becomes Striker Eureka's logo.


	29. Still in the Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stacker Pentecost thought the Jaeger Program had exiled him, until tensions between Rangers and a commanding officer erupt in another Shatterdome, and the Kaidanovskys and Wei triplets seek his intervention and remind him where his priorities lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** _ _Here follows a shift in POV to Stacker, and a look at the intrigues occupying some of the other crews! Fei-Yen Wang is an original character, but in this headcanon, she is the beautiful Chinese woman that we see posing when Raleigh mentions "propaganda" during the opening montage of the movie._

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Still in the Game**

_K-Watch Headquarters, Hilo, Hawaii...  
Autumn, 2020..._

Stacker Pentecost observed the launch of Striker Eureka and the next few kaiju engagements from Hawaii at Tamsin's side. When he arrived at K-Watch headquarters that summer, he'd half-feared that even she would be too disgusted to even look at him over his handling of the Knifehead investigation.

In his heart, he found it hard to turn away from the focus on the war that had consumed his life for seven years, even though as far as PPDC Command and the UN were concerned, he was in permanent exile. He rather suspected that some of the Rangers would prefer that.

While he'd still been in Anchorage helping Marshal Gagnon finish the delicate handling of Chuck Hansen's readiness, the Gage twins had come right out and asked if they had a choice about being reassigned to a Shatterdome under Stacker's command.

After brief deliberation, Stacker had said yes, they did have a choice. So the Gages had declined the transfer. They hadn't explained their reasons, and all involved knew it wasn't necessary. Message received.

While Caitlin Lightcap had held her peace with everyone who hadn't been involved with Stacker's little conspiracy, she had still refused to let him take on any more of a burden than he had to. So Tamsin was waiting for Stacker at Hilo airport, and told him, "Don't worry. I know everything."

She didn't elaborate, and neither did he, but through the ghost drift that still flared faintly between them even after four years, he'd felt it. Tamsin _knew_. She understood, and she didn't hate him for it. He brought the Beckets' little Coyote Tango with him for her, and the toy Onibaba with Yancy's haiku, and let Tamsin hold him. She was the only person on Earth he'd allow to do that.

Stacker found it very difficult to look at her. Her hand was on his back as she let him work up to it. He sat with his shoulders hunched, a posture few other people would ever see, and muttered, "Herc Hansen knows. Bruce and Trevin don't. I don't think they'll ever forgive me."

"Caitlin thinks you should tell them," said Tam. "Sasha and Aleksis know better than to jump to conclusions, but you're a terrible one for hiding what's in your heart, Stacks."

"It's none of their business what's in my heart," he grumbled, but it was half-hearted. He couldn't seem to muster the same feeling as before.

And Tam wouldn't have fallen for it even if he had. "Maybe not, but it _is_ their business to want to know what's become of their friend. And it's every Ranger's business to know whom they can trust these days. You should be someone they can turn to and feel safe."

"You don't think that horse has already left the barn?"

Tamsin shook her head. She was looking better now than she had in years, if clearly still not in the health that she'd had before chemotherapy started in 2016. Her hair had grown back, and she was putting on some weight again. She even had the energy to ride a bus into the inland parks for walks a few times a week. Like Stacker - and probably many others in the Jaeger Program and around the world - she was wary of the beach. She and Luna had been girls of the city and the nightclubs, but since K-Day, she'd pulled away from those old pleasures. Hawaii's greenery and birds had given her something like peace.

"From what I heard, you were a good instructor. You should go back to it. New pilots will need guidance _and_ fair warning of what they're in for. With Duc gone, there won't be any experienced Rangers at the Academy."

Stacker sighed. "There aren't nearly as many candidates at the Academy these days."

She folded her arms and glared at him. "This doesn't have to be the end, but if _you_ give up, you'll be part of that. Even if the world is ending. What would you rather be, Stacks? Another part of the fleeing mob or the last man standing?"

Tam did have a way of coming up with questions he couldn't answer.

Attacks were coming less than two months apart now. The acceleration and the increasing size were ominous trends, but... since Knifehead, the engagements had been going well.

With Hodag in September, the Panama and Los Angeles Domes formed a new Western triple team: Puma Real, Solar Prophet, and Amazon Delta. They pursued and contained the Category IV through Golfo Dulce, keeping it off Costa Rica's vulnerable beaches, and destroyed it in the shallows of Golfito Bay.

The "B-Team" in the East, Cherno Alpha, Nova Hyperion, and Shaolin Rogue, made their debut in combat with Atticon in November. Atticon was another "Big III" as some had nicknamed the newest generation of kaiju, and a disturbingly savvy one. It kept to the deepest ocean floor through the Philippine Sea and then the East China Sea, making it almost impossible to intercept until the monster finally took aim at Seoul, South Korea. K-Watch's sonar and spectrum detector network did their job, however, and the Jaegers made the intercept in the islands well away from the population.

Maybe the optimists were right, and Manila and Alaska had just represented one of the tragic setbacks of a war that could still be won and needed only resolve. Hell, maybe Stacker could indulge himself and linger in Hawaii with Tamsin, and not charge himself with neglect of the Rangers.

Then, in November, after Atticon met his end in the Yellow Sea, Stacker's pseudo-holiday ended in a way he hadn't expected. He received a very cryptic message from Sasha Kaidanovsky:

_Come to Hong Kong. There is trouble with Shaolin Rogue._

Stacker stared at his phone like an idiot until Tamsin gave him a poke in the ribs. "Off you go, Stacks. It seems some of our old Mark-1 comrades still value your help."

* * *

_Hong Kong Shatterdome…  
November 25, 2020…_

General He Liang of Hong Kong Shatterdome was a powerfully-built man whose commanding presence could cow both officers and civilians. Silver-haired, in his late sixties, he was the eldest of the commanding officers. He tended to keep clear of the politics involved in the Jaeger Program, running his base and his personnel as he saw fit, without asking permission or forgiveness for his choices. He was something of a mystery to most of the Western officers, although less so to Stacker. They'd always gotten on well; they had the same sensibilities about formality and presence in front of the personnel. The two of them had certain interests in common outside of the Jaeger Program – namely, two young girls in the same school in Pennsylvania. Liang's granddaughter was Mako's roommate and best friend.

However, on this occasion, Liang was not pleased to see Stacker. The same was true of Shaolin Rogue's absurdly large PR team. "I am not sure who sent for you, Marshal, but this can be handled internally by the Hong Kong Shatterdome."

Once the Rangers themselves realized he was there, however, it was clear where the lines were drawn. The Wei triplets approached him at once, not exactly beaming, but definitely glad of him. "Marshal Pentecost. It is good to see you, welcome," said Hu. The way the triplets shot hard looks at their own commanding officer told Stacker that whatever this trouble was, he was no longer the only CO who had lost the faith of his crew.

_All_ of the crews, it seemed. The Weis were swiftly followed by Xichi Po and Lo Hin Shen of the newly-relaunched Horizon Brave, and Maina and Chane Siddha of China and India's jointly-owned Mark-4, Butterfly Sword. The only team not in evidence was Shaolin Rogue.

General Liang and the Chinese higher-ups were bristling, correctly seeing this as a rebellion and interference by someone from outside their jurisdiction. In their shoes, Stacker would have felt the same.

He was surprised to find the Kaidanovskys and Nova Hyperion's pilots there as well. Whatever was going on, it was distressing the other pilots enough that Shaolin Rogue's fellow "B-Team" Rangers had come in person. "Rangers. General. I've been... advised that a situation has come up?"

While Liang and the Chinese seniors were still sputtering, Sasha (unsurprisingly) took the bull by the horns. "Marshal Pentecost. You have been in contact with the Academy, yes?" Stacker nodded. "Are there teams available from China who could be trained to pilot Shaolin Rogue?"

_Well._ No wonder General Liang and his cohorts were in a tizzy. Shaolin Rogue had come through the engagement with Atticon with almost no damage, and his pilots with barely a scratch. Yet for some reason, the Rangers themselves were making noises about replacing Fei-Yen and Huan.

Cautiously, Stacker ventured, "There are two Chinese teams who have passed the second cut. Currently both are in contention for reassignment of Silver Lion once the repairs are complete. Perhaps I should speak with Rangers Wang and Che - "

"Where - are - they?" General Liang practically snarled.

Stacker did a double-take, shocked by the implied news and by the edge of Liang's usually-controlled temper. He was met by three identical scowls as the twins glared from him to Liang, arms crossed in the exact same pose. Xichi Po and Lo Hin Shen looked equally obstinate, flanked by the Kaidanovskys, and the Koreans, while more visibly nervous at all the hostility, were nonetheless sticking with their fellow Rangers.

This conversation was already well into ugly territory. Stacker picked a triplet at random and beckoned him to one side, ignoring the protests from the brass. Something very serious was in progress, and first, he needed to find out the facts. "What's happened?" he muttered. The other two Weis clustered around them, gesturing at the remaining Rangers to wait. Even the Kaidanovskys deferred.

And Hu quietly gave him the three words that explained everything: "She is pregnant."

_Good God._

It took a few moments to sink in, and then, Stacker's first impulse was to slap himself on the forehead. What idiots had the commanding officers all been, to not address things like contraception and family planning more heavily with Medical? It had been a foregone conclusion that the pilots of the nuclear Jaegers would be rendered infertile, if not by the radiation, then by the cocktail of medication they all had to take.

_So implodes another foregone conclusion, and we're all caught flat-footed yet again._ As irony would have it, the pilot forced into the epicenter of this new eruption was Fei-Yen Wang, China's favorite propaganda icon, their beautiful, untouchable goddess, who loved her co-pilot but was under orders to pretend he was no more than a surrogate brother. Huan Che wasn't deemed good looking enough for a storybook romance.

One of the UN senior representatives came stalking over. "A Jaeger pilot can't just resign!"

It didn't take Stacker long to work out his own position. "Can't she? It sounds as if there's a medical reason."

"This isn't your affair, Marshal Pentecost," growled Liang.

"No, it's Ranger Wang's, and Ranger's Che's. What exactly do you propose to do, force them back into the conn-pod at gunpoint next time there's movement in the Breach?" Now it was Stacker's turn to scoff. "You had plenty of opinions about the decency of the Mexican government in their treatment of Matador Fury's pilots," he remarked to Liang. "Does that not still hold for your own pilots?" _For god's sake, man, not only that, you have a daughter and granddaughters. What the hell do you propose to do to this woman?_

Liang glared, but now at the ground. "This is not the time to be having babies," he muttered. "Fei-Yen Wang's role in this program is a vital one. She can't be replaced."

Well, Stacker agreed with part of that. "None of our Rangers can be replaced. Up until now, we've lost many fine pilots to tragedy. But there are others ready and willing to step forward." He nodded to Xichi and Lo Hin. Stacker and Tamsin would never stop missing Min and Jing Li, Duc and Kaori Jessop, Yan-Jie and Fang, but two of that first class of Jaegers were ready to go back into battle, and the third would be soon. There could be no doubt that their fallen friends would be as pleased by their successors as Stacker and Tamsin were with the Tunaris.

So he joined the younger Rangers in staring the brass down. "The decision of how to handle her medical condition _and_ the results thereof," he smirked to himself - how Victorian he made it sound - "lies with Ranger Wang and no one else, except possibly her partner. The decision of whether to go into combat lies with every man and woman in this program. We agreed at its inception that we would not engage in drafting, and there's still no need. At this moment, we have only two Jaegers expected to be launched in the next year. That will give us a surplus of Ranger Ready pilots. If need be, Shaolin Rogue can be reassigned."

Liang sighed heavily, suddenly looking his sixty-five years. "The crisis is not over. We need _experienced_ pilots. Shaolin Rogue now has a kill. The next attack could be in a month, and if Wang and Che are not here, Hong Kong will have _only_ the Weis with combat experience."

One of the triplets snorted. "You've made a fetish of her," he spat. With no identifying sunglasses, Stacker still had trouble distinguishing Jin from Cheung. "It is not her experience you fear losing, it is her face and her body and her hair for your posters and dolls. She has had enough," he told Stacker. "If only to pilot, it could be different. Fei-yen wants her husband, her family without interference. She wants her freedom."

A chill went through Stacker at those words. _"Raleigh deserves his freedom,_ " the Hassans had told Herc in the wake of Yancy's death. They'd called Herc's idea of co-piloting with Raleigh a fairy tale.

The triplets and the other Chinese pilots were too busy nodding in agreement to notice, but he saw the keen look that he got from Sasha. _Is it a fairy tale to imagine that one pilot might get her freedom for a reason other than total loss of all she holds dear?_

Not to mention the other half of this equation who was so often overlooked in the blinding light of his co-pilot's beauty and charisma. Stacker wasn't surprised to hear Huan referred to as Fei-Yen's husband. No doubt they'd eloped at some point, but were still under orders to keep their relationship secret so marriage didn't detract from Fei-yen's allure. This was Huan's child too.

But was General Liang simply being the pragmatic one? After the losses that the program had already suffered, among them some of the top pilots, was it just a simple matter of letting Fei-Yen and Huan depart to start their family and train up an entirely new team for Shaolin Rogue? And a new member of the B-Team squadron?

_"Jasper and I didn't build Jaegers to turn people into slave gladiators._ " He knew where Caitlin would come down on this debate.

"I take it she's told you what her wishes are?" he said to the triplets. They nodded in unison.

One of the UN representatives fumed at Liang, "You can't just let them desert."

"They have given you everything," Hu retorted. "Enough. No more. Not their child too."

Sasha and Alexis were in murmured conversation with An Yuna and Pang So-yi. The Koreans nodded, and Sasha turned to the brass to drop another weight onto the scale. " _We_ will not allow it." She considered Xichi and Lo Hin, then the Siddhas. "Cherno Alpha and Nova Hyperion will ride together, but not with Shaolin Rogue if you force the pilots. Let us ride with Butterfly Sword or Horizon Brave. We will not have this."

"Why don't we just involve all the commanding officers?" growled someone.

"Maybe we should," said Sasha, all blithe unconcern. Incredibly, Stacker felt his lips twitch. No, Russia's Colonel Rabinov wouldn't be interested in disciplining the Kaidanovskys for defending Fei-Yen. Stacker wasn't so certain about Nagasaki's Colonel Okita, but Tokyo's Admiral Yamamoto remained a vocal advocate for the Rangers themselves along with the "greater good" that ruled so many decisions.

He searched for a way to defuse the situation without backing down from the defense of the pilot. "As I understand it, Cherno Alpha and Nova Hyperion are both under repair after their engagement. Once they're cleared, the regular testing will take at least a few more weeks, which – unless we're all very fortunate and the rate of attacks slows down – means B-Team will not deploy for the next engagement or two in any case. Crimson Typhoon, Butterfly Sword, and Horizon Brave remain available to deploy from Hong Kong. The Corps Psych Analysts have ordered teams grounded in the wake of attacks for reasons beyond mere physical injury. If a pilot feels unable to deploy, that is no less legitimate."

"And if she decides she wants maternity leave?" asked one of the American UN reps, sounding scornful.

The line had to be drawn. The Weis and Kaidanovskys had already drawn it and put themselves firmly between their commanders and their fellow pilot. Stacker added his own weight. "Then we determine whether the time has come to reassign Shaolin Rogue, because the choice of whether to see a pregnancy to term lies with no one other than her."

"I want to talk to her," insisted Liang.

He sounded a little more conciliatory now, but the triplets stood their ground. "You already talked to her, and you said enough," said Hu.

"More than enough," added Maina Siddha. To Stacker, she added, "They do not want to hear more condemnation."

"Well, we don't want to hear more insubordination!" snapped one of Liang's aides.

"Then there's nothing more to say," concluded Sasha, as unconcerned as before. She cast a red smirk on the brass. "Unless you plan to court martial every pilot and officer in the Hong Kong Shatterdome."

Liang was outnumbered and knew it, but he wasn't conceding the ultimate point. "This program needs Fei-Yen Wang. This world needs her to do her job, not abandon her duty and her country."

"She has done everything you have ever asked of her," Chane Siddha retorted. "She has played the part, even hidden her family as you demanded. She has given enough. If you will not let her have her child, then find someone new to serve in your publicity."

_Be careful what you wish for,_ Stacker thought. Chane and his sister were a handsome pair. If the Chinese propaganda machine lost Fei-Yen as their poster image, they might well look to Maina to replace her. Rangers of Indian ancestry wouldn't be called upon to inspire the local patriotic fervor that Hong Kong had drawn from Fei-Yen, but there was still money to be made off good-looking pilots.

To his relief, after Liang and most of his cohorts stormed off to regroup, he discovered that a few Rangers did still trust him, and were willing to confide in him. "Am I to take it _you_ know where they are?" The triplets exchanged a brief look with the Kaidanovskys. Getting a nod from Sasha, they nodded in unison. "And they're safe? She has access to a doctor?" The Weis nodded again.

"She knew what the UN would say," said Maina tightly. "That her baby is an inconvenience to be disposed of so she can take more pictures and flirt with men in front of Huan. They've had enough. They've gone because they don't trust General Liang and the rest not to order Medical to intervene."

That thought had occurred to Stacker too.

He shamelessly checked into quarters in the Hong Kong Shatterdome without waiting for an invitation from General Liang, horning in on a commanding officer's territory in a way that would have enraged him if he'd been the recipient not long ago. But a standoff was still in progress.

He played it off by contacting Gagnon at the Academy for an update on the status of Class 2020-B. The two Chinese teams remained in the running with excellent simulator scores and had begun logging time in Brawler Yukon. There was a pair from Chile and another from Colombia also in contention for the nearly-repaired Diablo Intercept.

Officially, Shaolin Rogue was inactive along with Cherno Alpha and Nova Hyperion for the usual post-engagement repairs and assessments. Those who weren't aware of the showdown taking place would see nothing amiss.

The medical staff, he was pleased to learn, were very much in the pilots' corner. "Command treated it as a foregone conclusion that no pregnancy could survive deployment, but so far, it has," one of them insisted. "Fei-Yen _was_ pregnant at the time they deployed for Atticon; she's several weeks along now. We should have caught it," he added, embarrassed. "This was a stupid oversight."

"That oversight made have saved her from being subjected to 'treatment' without consent," murmured Sasha.

The doctor glared. "Not by me or any of my staff, Ranger. We will not administer any drug or therapy without informing a patient, no matter what orders we're given."

"I'm glad to hear that," Stacker said. "Can we take it, then, that if Ranger Wang is forced to return, you will maintain that position?"

The doctor nodded, but bit his lip. "I have already told the Weis, she must be seen regularly by a doctor. This cannot fail to be a high-risk pregnancy, after all the stresses her body has undergone. If needed, I can go to her."

The rest of the Rangers focused on diverting media attention from Fei-Yen's absence. It didn't hurt that the newly-launched Striker Eureka timed their fulfillment of the Jaeger Program's dancing tradition for then, so the media was preoccupied with the spectacle of a moonwalking Mark-5 and the gossip surround its seventeen-year-old pilot. As worried as Stacker had been for Herc and Chuck under the added pressure of the spotlight, the coincidence was a good one for giving the besieged Chinese Rangers a reprieve. He even considered contacting Herc to ask him to draw the media attention and explain the reason, but decided against it. Herc and his son had enough to worry about, and it would be best not to let this scandal spread and stress the program any further than necessary. (On the other hand, he rather suspected that given the number of Rangers and crews here in Hong Kong who knew, it would not be long before Herc did, at the very least.)

* * *

_December 10, 2020…_

Stacker remained in Hong Kong as tensions mounted and more senior PPDC and UN personnel arrived, and the public relations reps desperately tried to keep the facade of normalcy. By coincidence, Stacker was in public with the Weis when the standoff ended.

The triplets were giving one of their last public appearances before the one-month mark confined all Rangers to their bases again. Age twenty-one, the good-looking trio remained one of Hong Kong's top attractions, and the press in the vicinity went wild when Fei-Yen Wang and Huan Che came strolling up.

They were far too used to the spotlight, and none of the Rangers betrayed a hint of discomfort, but Stacker's heart sank. It could only mean one thing.

Most of the reporters were too busy having hysterics over the fact that she'd cut her hair short to think to ask where she'd been for the past month. To the ones who did inquire, she replied smoothly, "I've been making a full recovery, that is all."

General Liang and the rest of the brass had little choice but to "roll with it," as the Americans would say, and no one gave a hint that anything had been wrong except to exclaim over Fei-Yen's haircut. She called it a casualty of war.

Once they were out of the public eye, Fei-Yen and her fellow Rangers glared at their General Liang and the UN representatives, daring them to say anything. To Stacker's surprise, she approached him. "Thank you, Marshal."

"I am glad I - could help." He hesitated, uncertain of what to ask, but she knew the question on all their minds.

Her voice was steady, hinting at no distress, but Stacker knew by now that along with being a skilled pilot, Fei-Yen Wang was an accomplished actress. "A miscarriage. Not unexpected so early."

"So all this was pointless," grumbled Secretary General Krieger.

" _Not_ pointless," Aleksis Kaidanovsky retorted before any of the others could. Stacker hadn't seen him move, but he now hovered at Fei-Yen's shoulder on the other side of her husband, a looming guard against any threat.

Fei-Yen shot him a quick smile. "Yes, I have had time to think. I will fight again. I will use birth control now, and you will announce we have married after Atticon." Without giving Liang or Krieger or anyone else time to argue, she and Huan pulled their wedding rings off their dog tags and put them on their fingers.

Stacker managed not to smirk. The Kaidanovskys and the Weis didn't bother to try not to. "Then the squadron will reform," said Sasha. "As soon as Cherno and Nova are repaired, we can deploy again."

Stacker eyed Krieger and Liang. "It sounds as if we're all very fortunate to come through this latest engagement with so little damage. Congratulations," he added to Fei-Yen and Huan. "I'm sure your country and the rest of the world will be very happy for you." _And they can all sod off if they're not._ "Your fellow Rangers certainly will be."

"And I think your haircut is lovely," added Maina Siddha.

Krieger heaved a put-upon sigh but conceded the match. "Fine. Get _all_ the Rangers on contraception so this doesn't happen again. And stay in your own Domes."

"Until the next attack, yes?" asked An Yuna, daringly. Maybe not out of her teens, but still a former Olympic-level athlete, she'd also spent much of her first two years as a pilot in close contact with Sasha Kaidanovsky. The young Korean pilots had learned quite a bit from their mentors, and didn't hesitate to remind Krieger who the actual fighters were in this lot.

_We wield a great deal of power over them,_ Stacker thought. _Perhaps too much. But the UN does not have all the power, and the Rangers won't ever give it all to you. They are not your puppets, and_ they _are the ones who control the Jaeger, not you._

Krieger scowled at the girl, and Sasha stepped forward in her defense as well by diverting attention back to Stacker. "The Academy will need pilot trainers now that Duc has gone. You should go back."

Stacker ignored Krieger and directed his answer to the Rangers alone. "I'll go wherever I'm needed." _Whether the UN likes it or not._

* * *

_December 24, 2020..._

With this skirmish past, Stacker returned to Hawaii for the holidays. No public word ever got out about the reason for Team Shaolin Rogue's absence, apart from the assumption that Fei-Yen had been recovering from an injury and decided to elope with her co-pilot. Stacker smiled to himself when that hit the headlines, but as he predicted, most of the public were just swept up in the romance of it all.

Times changed. Fei-Yen Wang might no longer be a sex symbol, but that didn't diminish her status as a heroine, and her husband and partner was finally elevated to that place at her side.

Apparently, however, word did get around that Stacker had been involved in her defense. Shortly after Yankee Star and Chrome Brutus disposed of Goad outside Los Angeles, Marshal Gagnon contacted him. " _I need a pilot trainer. How about returning from retirement?"_

"Why me and not a current pilot?" Stacker hedged.

Gagnon smirked. " _Because we need the current ones to stay on duty. Quite a few active-duty Rangers suggested you: the Kaidanovskys, the Hansens, and the Weis. Even the Tunaris._ "

That last one startled Stacker. He hadn't heard from Vic or Gunnar since Yancy's funeral and suspected that like the Gages, they had no wish to be in contact with him.

But the Tunaris shared a Shatterdome with Nova Hyperion. Maybe the Korean pilots had let slip the events of Hong Kong.

He was rather embarrassed by the sense of hope that gave to him.

His intention was to respect Bruce and Trevin's wishes, however, and not contact the twins apart from official business - but that plan was put to the test soon after he returned to Anchorage, on Christmas Eve.

He received a message on a secure line that had him diving for the personnel roster. His heart sank when he saw that the twins were the nearest to the location he needed, but that didn't stop him from sending them a secure message:

_Raleigh Becket is in the workers' barracks for the coastal defense projects in Santa Cruz. He needs help. You're the closest._

He got a text from Bruce within thirty seconds: _On our way._

**_To Be Continued..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Coming Soon:_ ** _Bruce and Trevin Gage thought they could never forgive Stacker Pentecost for dismissing Raleigh from the Jaeger Program - until Raleigh is in danger and Stacker calls them for help. The twins learn that there was far more to Stacker's actions than they ever imagined in_ **_Chapter Thirty: Wheels Within Wheels!_ **
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> General He Liang: Commander of the Hong Kong Shatterdome. Chinese Army General, late 60s, one of the founders of the Jaeger Program and Jaeger Bushido drift compatibility system, he is devoted to the war and the cause of the Jaegers... only sometimes at the expense of the individual officers. His daughter's family moved to the inland United States after Reckoner attacked Hong Kong, and her children attend boarding school in Pennsylvania along with Mako Mori.
> 
> Fei-Yen Wang and Huan Che: Pilots of Shaolin Rogue, China's Mark-3. Fei-Yen is one of China's first generation of female fighter pilots, and Huan was formerly one of her plane crew. They were in a long-term, clandestine-by-orders relationship, because the Chinese Commanding Officers wanted the beautiful Fei-Yen to continue serving as the untouchable poster girl for propaganda, or at least by the side of a handsomer man than Huan.
> 
> Chane and Maina Siddha: Pilots of Butterfly Sword, a Mark-4 jointly launched by China and India. Early 30s, brother and sister of Indian ancestry, but living in Bejing. They're military engineers in their early 30s.
> 
> Marshal Vincent Gagnon: commanding officer of the Anchorage Shatterdome and Jaeger Academy, late 50s, formerly Canadian Air Force. Facing retirement soon due to health problems.


	30. Wheels Within Wheels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Trevin Gage thought they could never forgive Stacker Pentecost for dismissing Raleigh from the Jaeger Program - until Raleigh is in danger and Stacker calls them for help. Then the twins learn that there was far more to Stacker's actions than they ever imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** Thank you all so much for the terrific feedback! Please keep it coming! As some of you have already worked out, this story evolved a bit from my original plan. While the main plot covers the war from the Hansens' viewpoint in Sydney, there are many subplot threads running through it regarding the other canon characters and their fates before the movie. This chapter's events take place a week after Chrome Brutus did their Hulk imitation.  
> _

**Chapter Thirty: Wheels Within Wheels**

_Monterey, California…  
December 24, 2020..._

Bruce and Trevin were less than happy to get a message from Stacker fucking Pentecost on Christmas Eve. The thought occurred to both of them that maybe it was some attempt at reconciliation. Stacks didn't strike them as the type, but maybe Tamsin had put him up to it –

_Raleigh Becket is in the workers' barracks for the coastal defense projects in Santa Cruz. He needs help. You're the closest._

Then they saw the message, and those thoughts went out the window. They were halfway down the road before it occurred to them that they'd probably freaked out their family - a couple of Rangers sprinting out the door talking about an emergency would lead anyone to jump to a conclusion.

So Bruce sent one message to Mom explaining there was no kaiju, it was just a friend in trouble, and then another to Pentecost to confirm they were on their way.

The twins dodged the paparazzi who were perpetually camped out near their home, taking advantage of their greater knowledge of home turf, and their own car instead of a PPDC jeep. The drive from Monterey to Santa Cruz didn't take nearly as long as it would have seven years ago, even in holiday traffic. Jaegers or no Jaegers, a lot of people weren't comfortable living in coastal cities anymore. California's prime beach front real estate market was bottoming out, and fewer people vacationed there.

In the place of those legendary ocean views were the growing anti-kaiju walls and the first-responder deployment stations. Huge armies of construction workers had been recruited for those projects, working for food rations along with a pittance of a salary in the crumbling coastal economy, no benefits and godawful safety commissions.

The twins had no idea how Stacker knew, but apparently this was where Raleigh had ended up. It was a tent city resembling a fucking refugee camp on the beach that had once been tourist heaven, near the ugly foundation of the wall and an array of signs directing workers to the various projects. The place was packed with workers, more crowded, dirty, and smelly than it looked on the news. Scenes like this on foreign soil during wartime were bad enough. Knowing they were within fifty miles of their hometown, on the same beach where they'd once surfed during spring break made it still more bleak How the hell were they going to find Raleigh in this?

It wound up being much easier than expected. They exited their car, and were about to send Stacker a text asking where to go from here when someone exclaimed, "Thank God!"

A bearded older man rushed towards them with several others trailing after. He looked more like a coal miner from an old movie than a 21st century construction worker. Bruce and Trevin faltered, but could tell these weren't just adoring fans or even desperate poor looking for assistance.

Not assistance for themselves anyway. "We weren't expecting the Gage twins," someone said. "He's in the barracks."

"What's happened? We just got a message he needed help?" asked Trevin.

They pushed through a sepia haze of asphalt smoke and unwashed bodies towards what was obviously the loosely-termed "living quarters." _And we're half a block away from luxury hotels and condos that nobody lives in anymore._

"He's sick," said the coal miner. "Something's been going 'round. We thought he was over it, but he spiked a 105 fever this morning."

_Holy shit._ In this place, no wonder. They wove through rows of cots to an area where there were more people off their feet than on. Was this what passed for medical facilities?

Bruce and Trevin only picked out Raleigh's spot because there were several other men hovering around it. They all looked relieved to see the twins.

But Raleigh... _Oh, kiddo._

He didn't even know they were there.

On one hand, he didn't look as terrible as Bruce or Trevin would have predicted, nine months after Yancy's death, wandering alone since then. He'd obviously been strong enough to work up until now.

But right now, he was in bad shape. Sweat-drenched and burning up, he was unconscious and obviously hurting. His breathing wasn't good.

"It's pneumonia," said one of the men. "Four guys have died in the past week."

_Not him._ Trevin looked around. "Where's the nearest ER?"

"Dominican Hospital. But they won't take us, man, we got no insurance!"

_Oh yeah? We'll see about that._ Bruce went jogging out to get the car, and Trevin began trying to shake Raleigh awake. "Rals? Kiddo, wake up for me. We need to get you to a doctor."

The only response Trevin got was a pained groan as he pulled Raleigh into a sitting position, then a murmur of "Yancy?"

Trevin winced and looked around. The bystanders had all cringed too. Did they all know who this kid was? Raleigh was younger than anyone in Trevin's line of vision; that alone would probably get him second glances. He certainly had a lot of people watching out for him.

"We've... been trying to keep an eye on him," said the coal miner hesitantly. "Water, Tylenol, getting him to eat. He's been pretty tough until it got bad today."

"Thank you," Trevin said around a suddenly-tight throat. He made himself focus on the immediate concerns – getting Raleigh to the hospital. He'd have to carry the kid to the car. Rals was simply too out of it.

"How'd you know he was here?" asked a Latino man with a handlebar mustache.

Trevin frowned to himself. "I'm..." He suddenly wondered. How had Pentecost known?

When a dark figure in a marginally-cleaner jacket than the rest leaned towards him and muttered, "Your brother's here. You can bring him out of the side entrance," Trevin jumped.

He thought for a minute it _was_ Pentecost. But on a second look, this man was older, and apart from his dark skin, didn't resemble Pentecost at all... except that the accent was _exactly_ the same.

Trevin turned his reeling mind back to the task at hand and simply hauled Raleigh over his shoulder. The strange Briton followed him with a small duffel bag to the car, but said nothing else, and Bruce was too preoccupied with getting them to the hospital as fast as possible.

As predicted, the name of Gage was the only insurance they needed to get Raleigh admitted and plenty of attention from the doctors. "This was close," one of them warned. "Pneumonia was setting in. He's not dehydrated, but if that fever had gotten much higher, he'd be in serious trouble."

"Aren't there even free clinics, volunteers for the work crews?" demanded Bruce.

The awkward looks and shrugs told the tale. "Our budget and staff have been slashed as it is. There's talk that we'll close due to lack of demand."

_Lack of demand my ass._ They went back into Raleigh's room to keep from snapping at the medics. Those decisions obviously weren't in the doctors' or nurses' hands, so no point in blaming them. Even so, the hospital staff were wary of the twins and didn't gush the way people normally did.

An orderly entered a little while later with a chart and said, "His emergency contact seems to be a Paul Terrence. Do you... know that person?"

Bruce and Trevin frowned at each other, but then a voice from the doorway made them both jump - again. "That's me."

_Stacker Pentecost, Sr.,_ flitted through both of their minds. They'd been drifting for so long now that even in months after combat, they had little spurts of telepathy. They'd actually gotten used to it.

The orderly beat a hasty retreat, and the twins took the measure of the stranger. "Next of kin, hmm?" said Bruce.

"No, not kin. Just an old friend from the old country."

The old country being London. A lifetime ago, Stacks and Tamsin had told stories of growing up in the city. The parents had traded shifts looking after the children to juggle work demands. This Paul Terrence looked like he was the right age to have been one of those, strange as it felt to think of Stacker as a kid.

"So you called us?"

He shook his head. "I called him. I told him I could take the lad to the hospital myself, but he's a bit of a control freak. Knowing how close we were to Monterey, I suspected you'd turn up."

"But how'd _you_ find him?"

Terrence smiled faintly. "You could say I'm a jack-of-all-trades. I've been working here quite a few months. A former Ranger stands out."

The twins raised their eyebrows. "And where were you working before this?"

"Wherever I liked. I go where work is available."

Raleigh shifted and mumbled in his sleep. Bruce put a hand on his face and grimaced; his fever was still high. The medics had said it would take a few hours to bring it down. Raleigh sighed as Bruce patted him. "Yancy..."

_Shit._ The twins looked from each other back to Terrence. It stabbed at them all over again: grief and helplessness and shame that they'd failed to prevent this. The only thing this kid they'd trained wanted, he couldn't have, not ever again, and there were so many other Rangers out there who might be in this same fate one day.

_Including us._

Terrence said quietly, "As far as Mr. Becket knows, I'm just a shift supervisor. I won't be the only one he'll see now and then as the work crews move. There are more bunkers to build, and the wall is going up."

"This is crazy," Bruce muttered. "He was a Ranger. He shouldn't - dammit, _nobody_ should be in those conditions. We need to do something." _Call the press. Demand they treat them better. Get Raleigh out, get him_ somewhere _better than this._

Terrence shook his head. "I'm constantly having to remind boys like you that you can't save everyone. You have kaiju to fight."

"He fought kaiju. He lost - " _everything._ "He lost his brother. He doesn't deserve this."

"Does he deserve to be a prisoner of the well-meaning?"

"What the hell do you mean by that?" Terrence just turned and left, and the twins were stuck with debating whether to go after him or stay with Raleigh or split up and try to find out what the hell was going on.

"This has Stacker's fingerprints all over it." Trevin growled. "What the hell's his game? He kicks Raleigh out of the Corps, but then has some dude shadowing him?"

"Dunno whether I want to hug him or slug him next time we see him," said Bruce.

They decided to stay with the kid. Christmas carols playing on a radio somewhere made them exchange a grim smile. This wasn't the first dismal Christmas that they'd spent in a hospital, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

_We're still luckier than a lot of people out there. Look at Rals._

Raleigh's temperature went up again during the wee hours, and Bruce and Trevin had little choice but to trust the nurses that it was under control. They just did their best to comfort him as he grew fretful, though every time he called Yancy's name, it was like a stinger in their souls.

_There must have been more we could've done. For you, for Felipe and Ben._ "I'm so sorry, kiddo," Bruce murmured, patting Raleigh's hand. "We should've taken better care of you."

Raleigh opened his eyes. The twins caught their breath as his bleary gaze half-focused over them. "Where 'm I?"

"You're at the hospital, Raleigh. You're okay. You've just got pneumonia." He just blinked at them with fever-bright eyes, and Trevin leaned toward him, "It's Bruce and Trevin, Rals - "

Neither of them were prepared for the way Raleigh flinched, writhing as if he'd jump out of bed and make a run for it right then. "No – no!" he pleaded. "Don't - don't make me go back - please..."

"Hey! Easy, Rals, take it easy!" Bruce shot his twin a frantic look. "Nobody's gonna make you go anywhere, it's okay. You know we're not gonna hurt you."

Raleigh tossed his head and squeezed his eyes shut, recoiling from them as if they were hurting him. "He said... he promised, he'd let me go 'f I didn't kill myself, why're you here? I can't, please, I can't see them..."

After a painfully long spell of Raleigh babbling his head off and the night shift nurse making noise about tranquilizing him to ease his agitation, he lapsed back into uneasy sleep on his own. Bruce and Trevin sat on each side of his bed with a hand on each of his shoulders to keep him from moving around or pulling his IV out, and each feeling the tightness of his own throat and the other's through the ghost drift.

"I don't get it," Bruce finally muttered.

_Yeah you do. We both get it. We had it backwards._

That was what Paul Terrence had been talking about, keeping Raleigh "prisoner." He'd wanted out after Yancy died. Not just out - away from everything and everyone who might remind him.

Could they blame him? In Raleigh's shoes, could either of them - _no._

That was a path neither Gage could stand letting their mind follow anymore. The longer they piloted, the less able they were to even think about the worst-case scenario. And the worst-case scenario wasn't both of them dying. _No. No._

So Pentecost had had to do something, anything to keep Raleigh from just giving up. Raleigh had wanted out, away from the Corps.

Why couldn't he have just resigned?

_Duc._ Duc Jessop had been dragged and bullied into the propaganda machine until he had a terminal diagnosis, and even then he'd had to go over Krieger's head just to tell the press he was _done_ with the fucking publicity. Hayase Shindo had been exploited even on her deathbed, a tragic tale for the media to drool and slobber over once Jiro had died even when she'd been too ill to appear in public.

Fat lot of good resigning had done either of them.

What options did that leave Raleigh?

_Do we really have to lose you too? Spend the rest of_ our _lives wondering what happened to you?_

_"Does he deserve to be a prisoner of the well-meaning?"_

When Paul Terrence came to look in on him the following day, Trevin followed him out of Raleigh's room. "He wanted out. That's what you meant before. That's why Pentecost cut him loose, because he wanted it." The older man didn't answer. Either he didn't know, or he and Pentecost were just that committed to keeping Raleigh's confidence - even without Rals knowing.

_Unlike us, sticking our noses in when he doesn't want us around, forcing him to remember. Goddammit. Who the hell are we to say what's the best way for him to cope?_

"I've been looking after him as a favor for a friend," said Paul. "You'd be doing _him_ a favor if you don't raise a hue and cry."

"We won't do that," Trevin mumbled, feeling six inches tall. _So we just turn our backs on all the other guys in that tent who looked out for him when he was sick because they don't have Jaeger pilots as friends and we've got better things to do?_ How many people had died in the past week, they'd said? "He doesn't know you're… looking after him?" Paul shook his head. "Okay. Then… we'll bring him back once he recovers, if – if that's what he wants. He knows we live near here. He won't know you called us."

Bruce was sitting at Raleigh's bedside when he came back in, and knew what he'd told Stacker's friend. They were both hoping that once Rals was up to it… maybe he'd be up to talking.

* * *

_December 25, 2020…  
Santa Cruz, California…_

He wasn't. Bruce and Trevin hadn't seen Raleigh since he'd been in the infirmary after Knifehead, but they'd heard descriptions of the condition of him once he'd recovered from the physical injuries.

_"_ _Empty. Like he's not fully aware of anything around him."_

_"_ _He won't talk unless you really push him. He won't look at anybody."_

_"_ _I think everything reminds him of Yance."_

It might as well have been nine days instead of nine months since Yancy'd been gone. Both twins searched Raleigh's eyes for some sign of Baby Becket, that kid they'd all doted on, who'd bounced through training and laughed so easily.

Gone. Gone in the Gulf of Alaska with his brother. Whether he'd ever come back… maybe he couldn't. People could heal from lost family, but like this, after drifting… maybe it wasn't possible.

Even if it was possible, what right did Trevin and Bruce Gage have to try to drag him back before he was ready?

He flinched when they touched him, so they stopped. And he looked so miserable when they asked him to come back to Monterey with them, that they didn't ask again once he shook his head no.

"We'll drive you back to the work site once the docs say your lungs are clear, if… you really want to go back there."

_Please say no, please change your mind…_

But when he nodded, the relief in his face was the closest thing to life they'd seen in his eyes. And for a few seconds, he actually _looked_ at them.

"Thanks."

It was their turn to not talk for awhile, because neither of them trusted his voice. Visiting Felipe and Ben was hard, seeing them still so maimed and disabled by the fight with Hardship. But Felipe and Ben had come out with their minds intact and able to mostly take care of themselves, and above all, they were together. Every time Trevin and Bruce had seen Duc Jessop, these past few years, they'd thought nothing could be worse. Until Yancy died and Raleigh lived.

The day after Christmas, the doctors reluctantly released their twenty-two-year-old patient. One of them sidled up to Bruce and murmured, "We've been talking about… the work site. There are some free clinics that used to be around there. We'll see if we can get them opened up again."

"Thanks. If you need funding for it, get in touch with us." Bruce scribbled their "VIP" email address on a card. "Keep it quiet, okay? He wants to be left alone, and…we need to respect that. Whether we like it or not," he added miserably. But the doctor nodded so fast that he wondered if Paul Terrance had said something to the hospital staff too.

They drove Raleigh back to the work site, Bruce sitting in the back seat with him, hoping against hope that he'd say something. He didn't even look up the whole way back.

"Listen, kid – Raleigh," said Bruce, and pushed another card at him. It had their most private numbers, the ones that only their family and closest friends had. The ones that would turn their phones on even if they were off and page their crew liaison if they were in the conn-pod so he could answer for them. "If you ever need anything, _ever,_ or want anything. Call. Text, no matter where you are, no matter what's going on. We'll be here. Call anybody in the crews, any team, there's nobody who won't want to help. Nobody blames you. If you really want to – be somewhere else, that's okay, but if you ever change your mind, you can come to us."

Raleigh took the card without looking up. But as they pulled up to the curb, he said something so quietly they could barely hear. "Tell… tell Ilisapie and Zeke they were great, last week. Tell them he would've loved it."

Then he slipped out of the car and disappeared into the dusty crowd like a ghost.

* * *

_December 31, 2020...  
Jaeger Academy, Kodiak Island, Alaska..._

Only days after Christmas and the reassignment of Silver Lion and Diablo Intercept, Marshal Vincent Gagnon had his second heart attack. Caitlin and Sergio were there when Dr. Tán told Vince and his wife the blunt truth: "If you continue commanding a Shatterdome, you won't make it to retirement. As it is, you need bypass surgery and probably a pacemaker, and bed rest during the whole process. Even that's not a guarantee."

_Damn it._

Vince was more resigned this time than he had after his first heart attack in 2019, as was his wife, Mei. "Technically, I'm still the C.O. of the Academy as well. Who can succeed me who isn't likely to gut the program or turn it into a reality TV contest?"

A little humor crept back into Caitlin at that, because every one of them looked at Stacker Pentecost, who was standing at a slight remove from the group. He'd seemed renewed since coming back from Hawaii - who wouldn't be even without getting a holiday with his drift partner and his daughter to shake off the events of this hellish year? But although he'd resumed the role of drift and simulation instructor, he hadn't shown any interest in seeking a command again.

On the other hand, he didn't brush the notion off. A few months ago, Caitlin suspected he would have.

"How would we accomplish that?" Stacker asked. "Not only are Krieger and the UN unlikely to have forgotten my actions after Knifehead, but I've also alienated General Liang in Hong Kong over the Shaolin Rogue affair."

Vince smiled. He looked so frail nowadays, but when he grinned, there was still that twinkle in his eye that said his spirit wasn't broken. _So the rest of us better hang onto our own no matter what the war throws at us,_ Caitlin thought.

"We handle it the same way we handle every other action to protect this program and its people: do what we need to do, and ask forgiveness instead of permission - in public with the backing of our personnel. He Liang didn't like anyone who helped Fei-Yen and Huan stage their little rebellion, but most of his ire is directed at his own Rangers. And, well, he's getting up there in years as well. I wouldn't be surprised if he also has to take an honorable retirement fairly soon."

"The Rangers would rather have you than some ringer that the UN brings in," Caitlin pointed out.

Stacker looked dubious, and Sergio challenged him, "Let's ask them and find out. If you get the majority of votes, we treat it like a done deal the same as we did Duc's retirement. The brass will have to ratify it."

Caitlin knew Sergio was restraining himself from adding that the same tactic tended to work on Stacker. Not for the same reasons as Krieger and the UN; they all feared the loss of public support and the funding and power that came with it. Stacker could be inflexible and harsh as a commander, but when it all was said and done, he gave a damn about the lives of the people under his command.

They split up their efforts in subtly polling the Ranger population. Caitlin took the job of contacting the most likely holdouts: Vulcan Specter, Hydra Corinthian, and Romeo Blue. Romeo Blue was the team she needed the most, since the Mark-1 pilots still had the most internal clout, but she also knew they'd be the hardest sell.

At least, that was what she assumed. To her surprise, the twins didn't react with the same bitterness as a few months before. They looked very tired when she called, more than they should have been after getting Christmas at home with their family. Well, grief did have a way of coming back at the holidays, and a year ago, they'd been mourning Min and Jing Li. This year had seen the loss of Yancy and Raleigh, as well as Hayase Shindo, and next year would almost certainly see the death of Duc Jessop.

_"Cait, why didn't you tell us?_ " Bruce asked. The question - and the hurt in his voice - hit her in the chest. _"Why couldn't we know?"_

"Kn-know what?"

_"Whatever the hell it is that went down this year. We could've helped - we trained Raleigh, and Duc's our friend too. You know, Sergio knows, I'll bet good money Sasha and Aleksis and Herc know. Why'd we get shut out?"_

Hell, this was harder than she'd expected. "Because... " She opened her mouth to say she'd wanted to tell them, then stopped herself. It wasn't fair to throw Stacker under the bus, even if she had disagreed with him, because she'd gone along with it, as had Sergio, Duc, and Vince. They'd accepted Stacker's reasoning, and the price he'd been willing to pay. "Because you're still active pilots. The fewer people know, the fewer people are at risk for retaliation over Duc or Raleigh."

" _But that_ wasn't _all,"_ said Trevin tightly. " _Why'd we have to think it was Stacker's idea and not Raleigh's? Dammit, all the crew still think he was kicked out!_ "

Caitlin looked away from the screen. She hesitated too long, because Bruce told her, " _We've seen him._ " She stiffened and looked back at them. _"He was sick at Christmas, and Stacker knew. He's got someone keeping tabs on him. We were closest, so he sent us. We had no idea where he was or that anyone was looking after him until now._ "

_I will kill Stacks._ He'd told Caitlin to let Raleigh be, but apparently hadn't planned to do so himself. "He's… okay now?" The twins nodded. "So he told you?"

Bruce sighed. " _While he was halfway delirious, yeah, it came out. He wouldn't come back with us. We tried, but he… he didn't want to_."

"Who else knows where he is now?"

" _Nobody. We haven't said_."

She swallowed hard. "There you go, guys. If his crew knew where he was, they'd be taking turns following him around and begging him to change his mind. Hell, it's probably just as well I don't know or I might give in to the temptation. Stacks did what he did because the choice was Raleigh's."

" _But why lie to all of us?_ "

"To take the pressure off Raleigh. _You_ wouldn't blame him for resigning, if he'd just resigned, but could you really say the same of everybody? The brass, the press, the public? Every single crew? Some of the newer teams don't understand why their predecessors' crew didn't stay with the Corps. People still throw the word desertion around too easily."

" _Not our people,_ " Bruce growled. " _I'll take the head off anyone who talks that way._ "

"We all know Stacker's a control freak. But he set it up this way to protect Raleigh, the only way he could. If all Rals wants is still to be left alone, we need to respect that."

" _We heard some things. About Hong Kong, last month. Something changed Vic and Gunnar's minds too, but they wouldn't say what._ "

Caitlin smiled grimly. "When it comes to training pilots _or_ commanding a Shatterdome, I'd trust Stacker over anyone the UN puts in place. With the public support of the Rangers, Krieger won't have any choice but to approve."

The twins gave in. With them in Stacker's corner, and Herc Hansen as well, Team Vulcan came around.

Team Hydra Corinthian didn't. After talking to Kennedy and Stephanie, Caitlin knew that unless she spilled everything about Stacker's motives and the results, the pair wouldn't change their minds. _"We'll follow orders, work with him if we have to,_ " said Kennedy. _"But I won't trust him ever again and I don't see that changing. If the other teams think different, that's up to them, but Raleigh meant too much to us. He deserved better and I don't care what Pentecost's reasons were."_

Caitlin knew it was too much to hope for a unanimity among the Rangers. Ilisapie and Zeke weren't budging either, nor Team Mammoth Apostle.

However, it was accurate to say they had a solid majority of the Jaeger pilots, and most of the commanding officers in favor of Stacker Pentecost taking over command of the Academy and Anchorage Shatterdome. Marshal Ketteridge and General Liang were not on board, but nobody really expected them to be.

Still, the plan worked. Krieger and the UN were at least predictable in how they responded to publicity. Marshal Vincent Gagnon announced his impending retirement for health reasons, with no warning, and blithely informed the gathered press conference that he had high hopes that Stacker Pentecost would be confirmed as his successor. After all, the majority of the Rangers and commanding officers were for it, and Pentecost had been with the Jaeger Program and Academy from the start.

Krieger didn't dare stir up more controversy, especially not when public opinion was so firmly in favor of the pilots themselves, if shaky in support of funding more Jaegers. He and the UN confirmed Stacker to reassume command of Anchorage Shatterdome and the Jaeger Academy.

Mei Deng, Vince's wife, came to see Caitlin and Stacker shortly before the Gagnons left. "Duc is safely in Whistler, at our ski lodge. Now we have another pretext for hospice physicians being there."

_Hospice for Vince too?_ Caitlin managed not to ask. "I hope you all have some peace there. You deserve it."

Mei smiled. "It will always be open to Rangers and crew. Vincent and I have decided that. Even if we're gone. Anyone you send there will be safe."

Once she'd gone, they looked at each other. "How many more will we have to send after Duc?" Stacker mused.

"I don't know. I'd like to think none, but…" _definitely not realistic._ Caitlin pushed that thought away. There was no use focusing too much on painful futures, no matter how likely they were. "I guess what matters is that whoever is left still has us."

Stacker smiled – a real smile, one with genuine humor. The pang of surprise and nostalgia made Caitlin realize how long it had been since she'd seen that from him. "The conspirators."

"The last men standing," she countered. "You and I can't control what Krieger and the UN decide, not in the end. We can just keep being the ones our pilots can trust." Anticipating his next argument, she slid a tablet across the table. "And yes, more trust you than you realize."

The Gages had rescinded their objection to assignment to the Anchorage Shatterdome.

**_To Be Continued..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Coming Soon:_ ** _With Striker Eureka's first deployment, Chuck gets a firsthand look at the frustrations of life as a Ranger, and afterward, he witnesses some ugly truths about the extra trials for women in the Jaeger Program in_ **_Chapter Thirty-One: Sharing the Weight!_ **
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Paul Terrence: An old friend of Stacker's, Londoner, late 50s, who has been wandering and working during the war and now, at Stacker's request, is a supervisor on the Anti-Kaiju Wall Construction and quietly keeping an eye on Raleigh Becket.
> 
> Marshal Vincent Gagnon: commanding officer of the Anchorage Shatterdome and Jaeger Academy, late 50s, formerly Canadian Air Force. Facing retirement soon due to health problems.
> 
> Benjamin Gonzalez and Felipe Jara: Former pilots of Diablo Intercept, Chile's Mark-2. Chilean submarine crew before the war, mid-30s, they were both nearly killed during a fierce battle with Hardship in Concepcion, Chile in January 2019. Romeo Blue was their teammate and went on to kill Hardship, but not before Diablo Intercept was severely damaged, and Ben and Felipe suffered disabling injuries that ended their career as Rangers.
> 
> General He Liang: Commander of the Hong Kong Shatterdome. Chinese Army General, late 60s.
> 
> Fei-Yen Wang and Huan Che: Pilots of Shaolin Rogue, China's Mark-3. Fei-Yen is one of China's first generation of female fighter pilots, and Huan was formerly one of her plane crew.


	31. Sharing the Weight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Striker Eureka's first deployment, Chuck gets a firsthand look at the frustrations of life as a Ranger, and afterward, he witnesses some ugly truths about the extra trials for women in the Jaeger Program.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** Thank you all for the wonderful feedback, and please keep it coming! Special thanks to [Raine Wynd](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Raine_Wynd/pseuds/Raine_Wynd) for her continued beta reading assistance for these latest chapters!_

**Chapter Thirty-One: Sharing the Weight**

_January 20, 2021…  
Sydney Shatterdome…_

Striker Eureka's new crew personnel were peeved no end when they discovered that Sydney Shatterdome didn't muster for the full length of a Breach alarm. "Which means that if the kaiju goes off the grid and gives K-Watch the slip – which they _often_ do," Tendo fumed, "we've got that much less time to react!"

"I'm with you on that one, mate," Herc quietly told him.

Chuck wasn't sure how he felt about it. Marshal Ketteridge talked a lot about the funding squeeze and worried about what had already been diverted from the Jaeger Program to the Sydney Wall of Life, and those alerts could last a bloody long time even when the kaiju wasn't heading in their direction.

On the other hand, he looked at the crew who'd come from Anchorage, crowded around vid-comms on unofficial links to K-Watch, and could see it in their faces: people died if a Jaeger couldn't deploy fast enough. Rangers had died when all the strike teams weren't prepared.

The deployment recommendation from K-Watch and Tactics eased people's minds. Or not. " _Category III, Codename Hidoi. Water displacement volume and toxicity are below median, but water speed is well above. Initial direction is west-southwest, towards the Philippines, Indonesia, and Papua New Guinea. Mobilize all Eastern Hemisphere Shatterdomes – there is powerful runoff from Indonesia, Malaysia, and multiple Southeast Asian cities. We're going to have difficulty tracking target and a_ very _short reaction time to prevent landfall. Recommend double teams, wide dispersal over target regions."_

"Translation: he's small enough for an easy kill, the trick will just be catching him," muttered Susanti. She and Devi looked at each other, then she said to Herc, "Marshal's going to have to decide whether to split us up. What say we propose to stay together?"

"Yeah, and show the new kid how it's done," chuckled Indra. Chuck made a face at him, but had to grin. There were very few people who could have said that and not piss him off.

Kyrra, Greg, and Herc, and the rest of the former Lucky Seven crew were all feigning outrage along a similar vein, and they all trooped to the conference room in good moods, muttering about "kids today" and "bloody uppity Mark-3 brats." Chuck's heart was rattling around in his ribcage, and as much as he tried not to show it, he knew everyone had guessed it, from the smirks that were being thrown from his own crew _and_ Team Vulcan's.

Too bad Ketteridge had to be up to his old attitudes. "Marshal, since we've been training with Striker, we should deploy as one team," said Devi. "That'll clear out the launch pads for anybody who crosses the lake to Sydney."

Chuck wondered if Ketteridge had always been so openly dismissive of every word that came out of Devi's mouth, or if he was just noticing it now because he was actually in both of their company since launch. Ketteridge just nodded absently and turned to Herc. "You're the senior pilot here, Hansen. You'll command this team."

Chuck _felt_ his old man bristle, though Herc's face betrayed nothing. The rest of the crew shifted and exchanged looks. Yeah, technically, Herc was still the senior _officer_ , but there was no question that now the senior _Jaeger_ was Vulcan Specter. Vulcan was a Mark-3, in service three years, and had two experienced pilots as opposed to one.

"Fine," said Herc shortly, making a quick, quelling gesture at the crews. As Ketteridge turned his back, Herc mouthed, _Sorry_ , at the Hassans, and gestured that they'd talk outside. The crews who needed to prep for launch scattered to the bays, while the command personnel stayed to hear the deployment plans.

"My team will go together if you can send me two to be stationed here," he told the western COs.

" _I'll send over Solar Prophet,_ " said Marshal Morais from Lima. " _Shortest trip will be straight to your door._ "

" _Can you take two more?_ " asked Marshal Quijano from Panama City. " _I can send over Hydra Corinthian and Rio Sentry."_

" _And I'll run Matador Fury across,"_ added Marshal Ramirez from Los Angeles.

"That gives me a full house," Ketteridge agreed.

_"_ _I'll send Cascade Victor to Tokyo if you can use him,_ " said Pentecost.

_"We surely can. I would like to keep a few of our mechs in reserve,_ " said Admiral Yamamoto. Someone huffed loudly in the background, and Yamamoto shot a grin over his shoulder. _"I will make them draw straws, rather than force Cascade Victor to travel all this way only to sit in a different bay._ "

Chuck peered over the LOCCENT crews' shoulders and felt a pang of half-envy, half-consternation as the other commanding officers' debated the pairings. Only Sydney was sending both of its active mechs out together, which meant that if they went into action, they might both be _out_ of action at the time of the next attack. On the other hand, while he and the old man had been doing some training simulations with a few experienced crew from other Domes... there were none he felt so comfortable with as Vulcan Specter. Devi and Suze _knew_ him, and he knew them and their crew. Striker's scores in nearly all its team simulations were good, drawing praise from every partner they had, but they were far and away at their best with Vulcan. With every other partner, remembering the other Jaeger's weapons, maneuvers, and weaknesses took an extra step in the back of his mind. Not Vulcan. Chuck and Herc knew that Jaeger and his pilots almost as well as they knew their own. They're best chance at a problem-free first ride would be with the Hassans.

He was jolted from his musings by Tendo clapping his hands as he finished entering the data on the teams. "So that's Matador with Cherno," Tendo said, deftly moving mech blips around on his hologram. "Hydra Corinthian with Tacit Ronin, Bering Tigress with Coyote Tango, Crimson Typhoon with Katana Eagle, Butterfly Sword with Solar Prophet, Rio Sentry with Cascade Victor. Good teams, all around, experienced crews on each pair."

In every pairing, the most experienced team had command - _except_ Sydney's. Chuck was finding it very hard to look at the Hassans _or_ Marshal Ketteridge - or his father.

Indra must have been pissed too, but his voice was all business as he studied the holo-map. "Where do you want us, Marshal?"

" _We need heavy defenses on the Philippines and Indonesia,_ " said someone from K-Watch. Chuck saw and sensed Herc's wince at the thought of being back in Manila.

"What about Davao City?" he blurted. Keeping his gaze fixed on the map, he said, "Vulcan and Lucky had a good team run there, and it's on the gateway to the Celebes Sea." The COs would certainly want somebody in Manila even if the kaiju was predicted to run further south. That region was too heavily populated to take the risk, but maybe Ketteridge on assigning them just to an "important" city.

To his relief, Ketteridge took the idea. "Excellent plan, Ranger. See, I've no doubts you're ready for deployment in Striker."

A year ago, the Sydney Marshal's praise would have meant the world to Chuck. Now, it was just... embarrassing, and felt as false and overblown as anything Miss Morton had ever gushed over him. At least it kept them out of Manila. Cherno Alpha and Matador Fury landed that assignment instead.

No sooner were they out of the command center and on the way to the helipads than Herc pulled Devi and Suze aside. "So my first and last 'command' on this mission will be for you to take point like we did with Ningyo. You call the shots if we engage."

Suze grinned broadly, but Devi, to Chuck's surprise, looked at him, raising her eyebrows as if to ask if that was okay. The new pang of consternation from Herc through the ghost drift annoyed him. _I'm not such a bloody yahoo that I don't know the deployment rules and who's_ supposed _to be in charge, sexist CO or not._ "Yeah, you're the senior team here. You lead off." He felt a pang that was entirely his own at the relief on Devi's face, as if she'd been in doubt of whether he'd have his priorities straight. _Really? You've been training me and you think I don't know who's supposed to command_ my _first ride?_ The implication stung, in some ways worse than knowing how much his old man doubted him. Chuck forced his mind off that train of thought. He'd be verifying all Herc's fretting if he didn't pay attention to the planning.

"So are we ferrying you on one chopper, or splitting up?" asked Greg Oliver, now a command chopper pilot for Striker.

"We'll ride to Davao with you," said Herc. "Talk game plan in person."

"Aye, 'commander,'" said Suze, and beckoned them towards Vulcan's crew heli-pad. "Bundy One gets chariot duty for both teams. Let's get off the ground."

"Vibby Alpha through Delta, begin pre-launch," ordered Greg, jogging off towards Striker's heli-pad. "We'll form up behind Team Vulcan."

As tense as Chuck felt over both the deployment and all the bloody politics leading up to it, he couldn't deny a sense of smugness that both crews were firmly in accord on how this engagement was going to go, whether Marshal Ketteridge liked it or not.

"We don't know it'll be us engaging," Herc said as the chopper took off. "We've got seven teams spreading out on the target area, and still just a general direction. It can be months or years before you make an intercept."

He addressed the group in general, but he could only be talking to Chuck. _If, if, if, it's always "if" with you where I'm concerned._

More aggravating still, Herc ended up being right. Hidoi never came anywhere near them.

* * *

_January 23, 2021…_

When it was all over, Herc was frustrated, but not for how Chuck had handled deployed itself. He had to admit the kid had followed every procedure, remembered every protocol. But Chuck's fury and resentment buzzed through the drift all the way back to Sydney. _This is the way it goes sometimes. Didn't you see enough of how deployments work when you were a kid?_ Why the hell did Chuck have to huff and sulk as if Herc was somehow responsible for the direction Hidoi took? _Are you a Ranger or just a brat in a snit when things don't go your way?_

Of course, Chuck picked that up from Herc in the drift, and it only made the kid's sour mood worse.

Hidoi's path was a long-held nightmare scenario for K-Watch, veering sharply southwest into the heavily-populated, dense islands and reefs of Indonesia and Malaysia, with shallow seas and straits and confusing currents, and hard-to-follow runoff patterns. The Jaeger lift crews and their support teams spent a grueling forty-eight hours scrambling from one drop point to another, and the land crews had to scramble nearly as much to keep the choppers fueled.

No one could say that the Sydney duo didn't take multiple stabs at the intercept, not even Chuck. Hidoi bypassed the Philippines altogether, staying deep in the Celebes Sea before making for the Makassar Strait between Borneo and Sulawesi.

The first contact was in the shallows of the Mahakam River delta leading away from Samarinda City, met by Butterfly Sword and Solar Prophet. But after trading only a few blows, the bastard dove off the shelf and headed south towards Java and Bali. Herc and Chuck and the Hassans made their next stand in Jakarta and thought this time, the bogey might make for them. It was one of the biggest cities in the region.

But Hidoi passed them by again and stayed well offshore, too deep for an intercept attempt until he headed north again and went for the Banka Belitung Islands. Cherno Alpha and Matador Fury were waiting there. The kaiju made two passes, first at the city of Manggar and the many islands surrounding it, then again at Pangkal Pinang, but it didn't close with Cherno Alpha at all, and only Matador's impressive throwing aim got any of their spears into him.

He ran again, and the Australians relocated to Singapore, but this time K-Watch predicted the kaiju would continue north, and at last, they were right. It was disappointing for all of the new teams who didn't get a crack at him, but on the other hand, Crimson Typhoon got to give Katana Eagle an up close and personal tutorial on taking down an especially squirmy opponent.

As usual, Chuck was far more receptive to Devi and Susanti's pep talks. "This is how it always works," Devi told him as they regrouped after getting the final stand-down order. "Remember, Vulcan's been deployed seven times, but only had kaiju contact three times. It was the same for Lucky Seven. It's still hell predicting where these bastards go. Puma Real was on the roster over three years before she had an intercept."

"Yeah," Chuck sighed, letting up on his funk a bit. "I know, your class was the exception, not the rule, all three of you getting to fight on your first deployment."

"There's still fewer Jaegers on the other side of the lake. Fewer big cities too." Indra and Tendo came up to join them. "And dunno if you lot have noticed, but the bogeys are getting a bit more savvy. If they see Jaegers waiting for them, they run for another city more often."

"Who _hasn't_ noticed," said Chuck. "That's one more reason the press says the Jaegers aren't useful anymore and we should just build walls."

"Don't watch the pundit panels on the Jaeger Program, son, it's not worth the heartburn," Indra said.

"Team Vulcan, Team Striker, incoming call for you!"

"Both of us?"

"That'll be Ketteridge, wanting us back on the leash pronto," muttered Suze.

"Ten dollars says it's PR," said Tendo.

They were both wrong: it was Team Hydra and Team Ronin 2.0. " _Aussie! Aussie! Aussie!_ " Team Hydra chanted.

_Groooooan_ was the only reply they got _._ "And that, my lad, is why you lucked out not having to attend Academy with Americans," Devi announced to Chuck.

" _They made me do it,_ " Danny Oliver moaned, face in his hands. " _They pulled rank on me! On pain of insubordination, I had to say oi oi oi._ "

Herc guffawed. "Sorry, lad, but your Australian citizenship is hereby revoked."

_"You're ruining all our stereotypes,"_ Kennedy LaRue complained. _"Anyway, Quijano and Yamamoto have given us seventy-two hours' leave before we have to be back in our home ports. Where are you four headed?_ "

The Hassans looked delighted, and Herc was happy to offer a suggestion: "Ketteridge always wants us back on base to check in, but I doubt he'll complain if you join us. Ranger Oliver there ought to check in with his mum and dad, tell the home crowd how life in Japan's going."

"Team Vulcan, Team Striker, to helipad in thirty minutes!" someone bellowed over a loudspeaker.

Suze rolled her eyes. "There's our cattle call. Come meet us in Sydney. He usually lets us out once we've been debriefed."

* * *

_Sydney Shatterdome...  
January 24, 2021..._

Marshal Ketteridge did give his own Rangers a few days of post-alert leave, and glad to have the crew from Hydra Corinthian and Tacit Ronin visiting the Sydney Dome. Chuck got to meet the Hassans' other set of classmates in person for the first time, and reunite with Danny and Evie.

On the other hand... parts of what should have been a fun weekend were really bloody awkward.

Ketteridge gushed over Danny Oliver, insisting on publicity pictures of him at the Shatterdome with his dad's support chopper, and on Herc and Chuck with Striker Eureka. Tacit Ronin himself was already on the way back to the Tokyo Shatterdome, and Hydra herself was headed back to Panama City.

But Chuck discovered that Ketteridge's sexism wasn't limited to the Hassans, or to all-female teams. He treated Evie like an afterthought, and practically sneered at the petite, pretty Rangers of Team Hydra. LaRue and Lanphier's history as cheerleaders was a common media joke, and Chuck had to admit, he'd had some doubts of his own the first time he'd seen them. But most people had got over it once they went into action. They'd repelled Grindylow and killed Harpy, for Chrissakes!

Apparently, that proof meant nothing to Ketteridge. When anyone did pointedly try to include Team Hydra or Team Vulcan in the praises he showered on the male Rangers, he just smiled patronizingly and said, "Yes, and the ladies too."

All four teams fled the Shatterdome as soon as Sydney's marshal finally let them go. "Well, that was just..." LaRue trailed off.

Suze smiled wryly. "Welcome to our lives, love."

"I'm sorry about him," Herc muttered. Chuck just hunched over his beer in mortification, and Danny was still in shock.

"I'd... heard," Danny mumbled, looking at the Hassans. "But I didn't realize how bad he really was."

The four older women exchanged glances, then Devi waved vaguely towards the three men. "No sense stewing over it, and we've only got two days to relax. Let's not waste it thinking about Ketteridge."

"On that note, another round!" Stephanie Lanphier agreed.

Herc waved the bartender over. "If they order any Foster's, kick them out."

"Mate, I don't _stock_ Foster's!"

Chuck wound up the soberest bloke at the party again, mindful of the ever-lurking media and his seven months to go until age eighteen. He nursed one beer that his old man bought for him and didn't ask for another, switching to ginger beer for the rest of the night. The group of them had a good time explaining _actual_ local culture to the two Americans.

"If you want a non-tourist drink, try the ones our support choppers are named after. They're at least genuinely Australian for Australians."

"What's Vibby?"

"Short for Victoria Bitter."

Evie, Kennedy, and Stephanie wanted to do some site-seeing, but nobody was keen on being near the Shatterdome (and Sydney's commanding officer.) Instead, Herc drove them out to Katoomba to be surrounded by something other than concrete for a change, and they all hiked and chatted their way through the town and out to the waterfalls.

Chuck felt vaguely wary of Team Hydra, for reasons he couldn't quite pinpoint. They were a bit perky for his tastes, but warm and at ease with him, admiring what they'd heard and seen of his sim runs and tests in Striker. They both took to Max, which was a point in anyone's favor, and never failed to look out for him on their hikes. They praised Chuck's dog ownership too.

Talking shop with them was easy, but when they all wandered the town and the mountains and into other subjects, Chuck awkwardly kept to the edge and only answered direct questions.

Still, it was a good holiday, the best (and only) one Chuck had had in years, maybe since before Scissure. They discovered on arriving that Indra and Devi and Suze's family had got them two suites in one of the best hotels in town, an extravagance that Herc and Chuck had never experienced (or could have afforded) in their lives. Best of all, Evie and Danny's room was in the same suite as Herc and Chuck's, so Chuck didn't even have to worry about paparazzi when he went to their room to put their king-sized bed and ten-million-gallon jacuzzi tub to use.

He and Danny were the most awkward about it, knowing Herc would reach _exactly_ the right conclusion, but Evie rolled her eyes at them. "For god's sake, you drift! Why are you worrying about him being walls away? In a week or so he might as well be in the same bloody room!"

"That is not putting me any more in the mood, Evil," Danny muttered.

But they all eventually got over it enough. If the Hassans or Team Hydra suspected what was going on (or caught a glimpse of the hickeys that Evie left on Danny _and_ Chuck – there was a reason Danny called her Evil) they were decent enough not to say.

Chuck finally felt something like kinship towards Stephanie and Kennedy on that last day as they all reluctantly car-pooled back to Sydney to scatter back to their Shatterdomes. The radio news was reporting the latest developments in the Jaeger Program. Most of it was innocuous, just the reports on Crimson Typhoon and Katana Eagle's successful kill and the usual post-engagement rearrangement of Jaegers.

They all growled in unison when the subject turned to the usefulness of the Jaeger Program and the wall proponents got their air time, now bitching about how much all these "failed intercepts" had cost.

"So sorry the fucking kaiju ran away and _didn't_ try to demolish nine cities before deciding to go for broke in Bangkok!" Danny snarled. (Suze had one hand on the steering wheel and was using the other to flip the radio off.)

"Just turn it off," Stephanie urged.

"Nah, leave it on, we need to stay informed," Danny and Chuck argued.

They had the majority, and the Jaeger gossip was a relief, mostly making them laugh. There was even a feel-good snippet about them: _"Four Jaeger teams were seen in Katoomba, Australia taking a well-earned holiday after the attack, enjoying the Blue Mountains, waterfalls, and scenic railway for the past two days. Australian natives Herc and Chuck Hansen and Devi and Susanti Hassan of Striker Eureka and Vulcan Specter took the visiting teams of Tacit Ronin and Hydra Corinthian on tour for the weekend._ "

_"In Sydney, however, a storm is brewing over concerns about the inflammatory comments by Marshal Blake Ketteridge in an RAAF gathering last night while his pilots, including the crew of Vulcan Specter, were away. Questioned about his treatment of Rangers Devi and Susanti Hassan, and the visiting female pilots of American Hydra Corinthian, Ketteridge shocked witnesses by saying that if he'd had his way, women would not be Jaeger Rangers."_

The car had become very quiet. Ketteridge's voice, a little fuzzy from whatever cell phone or recorder had caught him, was still unmistakable. Chuck absently thought he sounded like he'd had a few. _"Hey, mate, don't get me wrong, I had two daughters and a granddaughter. I don't hate women, but let's face it: they're_ not _as strong as men in any branch of the military. They don't pull the kind of weight that men do, they can't carry the load that men do; it's just a fact! Those conn-pods have to be custom-designed, and I promise you, men could carry Vulcan and Hydra and the rest of those mechs a lot further._ "

_"That's sexist as hell!_ " someone exclaimed.

_"It's biology,"_ Ketteridge retorted. _"All this equality bullshit is just about special privileges, and no, I don't bloody like it. Herc Hansen pulls his weight, Chuck Hansen and Danny Oliver are going to pull their weight, and they all carry more than any woman._ "

The program ended and went to commercials, and Devi turned the radio off. There wasn't a sound in the car for several minutes.

"Well," Herc finally muttered. "At least he finally admitted it."

But upon arriving at back at Sydney Shatterdome, they saw the expected fleet of press trucks, much bigger than had been in evidence two days before, waiting as close as they could get to the motor pool. All four teams' PR reps were texting instructions to just grit their teeth and get inside the Dome with nothing more than "no comment."

But Stephanie and Kennedy decided to mix it up. "Hey. I got an idea." Kennedy leaned forward and whispered in Herc's ear - and Chuck's old man burst out laughing. Bemused, Chuck and Danny waited to be put in the know, and were quite shocked when Team Hydra shared their scheme.

Devi and Suze were all for it. Danny and Chuck were hesitant... until Herc mused, "Bet you anything Ketteridge is watching to see what we say when we get here. If we're really lucky, he'll be outside waiting to catch us and try and explain himself."

Chuck was sold. "Just one problem - you've only got three of us and five of you."

Several crew were coming out to escort them past the press lines, and Stephanie let out a gleeful squeal. "There's Tendo. Dibs!"

"Will he let you?" asked Danny.

"Just watch."

"Dibs on Herc," said Devi.

"Dibs on Chuck," said Suze.

"No fair, we're the dainty little cheerleaders. We should have one of the big guys!" Kennedy protested.

Devi refused to relinquish her claim, but Suze sighed melodramatically. "All right, fine, I'll get Max's leash if Evie won't let me have Danny."

" _Mine,_ " Evie growled, wrapping an arm around Danny's neck.

And so the press gobbled up the images of the pilots of four Jaegers piling out of their SUV: five women and three men, at first steadfastly ignoring the shouted questions and reassuring their worried crew. Then Chuck nearly lost composure and started laughing when he saw Ketteridge up on one of the upper levels of the Dome, presiding over the whole crowd as if to save face.

_Watch this, you sexist piece of shit._

Devi led off, without saying a world, just cheerfully turned toward Herc, twisted as if she'd dropped something, and hauled Hercules Hansen, Mark-1 Jaeger pilot, six-foot-one and over ninety kilos, over her shoulder like a duffel.

All Chuck heard was a collective roar, part triumph, part howls of laughter as Devi started walking, utterly sure of her steps, with Herc grinning wickedly over her back at the press.

"Oof! Love, be gentle with me!"

Another time, another place, Chuck would never have stood for this, but one look up to see the expression on Ketteridge's face, and he wouldn't miss taking part in that. Kennedy LaRue was a foot shorter than him, less than half his weight, but she had no more trouble than Devi had in hefting Chuck into a fireman carry and following Herc and Devi. Chuck caught a dizzy glimpse of the half-shocked, half-crazed press and couldn't stop laughing. A second later, Evie was following with Danny in a fireman carry, and Steffie had secured (or forced) Tendo's cooperation. Behind them all came Suze, with Max's leash in one hand and _all_ of their duffels on her shoulders and back, strutting along like a supermodel.

Tendo looked up at Ketteridge and started doing the royal wave, and Chuck copied him, prompting another gale of laughter from the watchers. More crew were running out of the Dome, taking pictures on their phones, doubling over with laughter, or just pumping their fists in the air and cheering.

_Well, we might not have fought a kaiju on this trip_ , Chuck thought, managing not to grunt as he got Steffie's shoulder blade in his ribs. _But it didn't turn out that bad._

**_To Be Continued..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Coming Soon:_ ** _The women of the Jaeger Program show just how much weight they can carry, but our heroes find trouble lurking from all directions. Herc and Chuck clash over Chuck's frustration at not being deployed yet, and their second attempt at an intercept has an outcome Chuck never prepared for in_ **_Chapter Thirty-Two: When You Make Other Plans!_ **
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Marshal Blake Ketteridge: Commanding Officer of Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force.
> 
> Greg Oliver: Herc's comrade and fellow chopper pilot from before K-Day, now a support pilot for Lucky Seven. Like Herc, he joined the Jaeger Program in the wake of Scissure. He lost his parents and his oldest daughter, Karina, in the attack. His son, Danny, was accepted into the Jaeger Academy after four tries despite lower academic scores than Chuck, and is now pilot of Tacit Ronin.
> 
> Kyrra Taior: Chief Engineer for Lucky Seven, then Striker Eureka. Aboriginal, Herc's age. Youngest and sole surviving daughter of Marian Taior, an elderly aboriginal woman who occasionally looked after Chuck when he was younger.
> 
> Daniel (Danny) Oliver: Age 17, son of support chopper pilot Greg Oliver, survived Scissure along with his little sister, Emma. He and Chuck clashed as teens in the Shatterdome but resolved their differences (and engaged in some sexual experimentation) at the Jaeger Academy, where Danny achieved drift compatibility with a partner and won the assignment to Tacit Ronin.
> 
> Evelyn (Evie) Nakano: Age 18, British-Japanese, another graduate of Class 2020-A. Despite disliking Chuck, she tested as potentially compatible with both him and Herc. She is drift compatible with Danny Oliver, and they have been assigned as successor pilots of Tacit Ronin.


	32. When You Make Other Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stacker fights to keep the Jaeger Program supported against trouble from all directions - not just the Breach. Herc and Chuck clash over Chuck's frustration at not being deployed yet, and their second attempt at an intercept has an outcome Chuck never prepared for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _ **Author's Notes:**_ _Thank you all for the wonderful feedback for the last chapter! Pang So-yi and An Yuna are extended canon characters with a really interesting backstory. Russia's Bering Tigress and Japan/Korea's Katana Eagle are original Jaeger characters, and their pilots are OCs. The debate between Herc, Tamsin, and Stacker about_ Independence Day _takes place in Chapter One of my fic, Tales From The Front Lines.  
> _

**Chapter Thirty-Two: When You Make Other Plans**

_Anchorage Shatterdome…  
March 2021…_

It became the next series of Jaeger Program viral videos: female Rangers defied Marshal Ketteridge's remarks about carrying their own weight by showing just how much weight they could carry. Namely, the weight of any male Ranger.

Stacker Pentecost knew there was no chance of it not becoming a sensation when Sasha Kaidanovsky came stalking out to a press conference at Vladivostok Shatterdome - with Aleksis over her shoulder as she argued with someone on her cell phone with her free hand. She didn't even break a sweat.

Eden Assassin's left hemisphere, Peter Lepp, saw the way the wind was blowing and ran for his life. His wife, Hedy Keres, chased him down, caught him in a flying tackle, and repeated Sasha's triumphal march back across the tarmac. However, Vladivstok Shatterdome had a problem: their remaining Jaeger, Bering Tiger (aka Tigress) was an all-female team. So her pilots, Yelena and Katya Pevelina, called out a request to Hedy and Sasha to "borrow" their burdens. The men wailed protests, but Sasha and Hedy were game and carried their husbands over, and handed them to their fellow pilots without ever putting them down.

_"That's how Russians do Sadie Hawkins!_ " a late-night TV host bellowed, replaying the video to thunderous applause.

The same scene was repeated in Nagasaki. The Tunaris didn't bother resisting, but let Pang So-yi and An Yuna use them as the human batons in a footrace with Katana Eagle's pilots. Their fellow Korean, Bora, outran them both with her boyfriend and co-pilot, Riyoji, over her shoulders. In Tokyo, the Tanaka sisters of Echo Saber had no male pilots in the vicinity, so two especially-burly security guards gamely volunteered to step in, and were carried 400 meters up and down the cargo road in front of cheering throngs.

Mako was visiting Anchorage for spring break, and burst into giggles when Stacker pretended to mop his brow as he said, "Thank God Tamsin and I are not on the same continent at the moment, or she'd be coming after me."

"You could let Mako do it!" Caitlin Lightcap suggested. She had already carried Sergio into a meet-and-greet with the city council.

Mako squeaked, blushed scarlet, and shook her head, giggling harder. Caitlin tried to wheedle her into it, but she refused, much to Stacker's relief. (Because if she'd asked, he probably would have let her AND let Caitlin film it to send to Tamsin, AND never live it down because Tamsin would send it to every pilot in the Corps.)

As much as Stacker preferred dignity for himself _and_ his Rangers, he was smugly satisfied to observe that however silly the men and women of the Jaeger program were acting, Blake Ketteridge had even less dignity to show for it. Stacker might still be in the doghouse with General Liang over Shaolin Rogue, but Ketteridge was now firmly on the shit list of Marshal Ramirez, Colonel Okita, and Marshal Quijano. Admiral Yamamoto and Marshal Morais weren't terribly impressed with him anymore either. The UN brass were starting to make noise that maybe it was time Blake Ketteridge resigned and moved on to other things.

That position was strengthened by the next attack. The "shrinking kaiju" trend ended on March 14 with a new Category IV, Namazu, who took aim at the port of Hong Kong. All of China's Jaegers deployed with their trios at the likely approach points, but it was the A-Team of Crimson Typhoon, Vulcan Specter, and Coyote Tango who made the intercept on the first try off Lamma Island.

**_The Dream Team_** , the New York Times and many other news outlets called them.

Officially, Coyote and Vulcan were awarded the kill, which outraged the entire population of China _and_ the Rangers. Typhoon was dealt a crippling blow from the kaiju, who had the eel-with-claws shape of Clawhook, only nearly twice as big. The body-slam to Typhoon's lower torso would have ended in a meltdown if he'd been a nuclear Jaeger. His right arm was all but crushed, the middle arm immobile from severed hydraulics lines, and right leg barely able to take his weight. As a breathless Hong Kong watched, Coyote and Vulcan ripped the giant kaiju away from him, and the triplets managed to stagger clear of the fight.

Still, it was a decisive win and a landfall prevented in a heavily populated area that had already suffered through Reckoner five years before. After the kill, Vulcan and Coyote went to either side of Typhoon and carefully guided him to shore. The triplets were evacuated straight to the hospital, but to the relief of the whole world, neither they nor their Jaeger were as severely wounded as initially feared.

_"Queen Elizabeth Hospital has officially confirmed that all of Rangers Wei are in good condition, resting comfortably tonight,_ " their PR rep announced at a press conference. _"Tang Hu Wei is underdoing treatment for a concussion, internal injuries, and a broken arm, and Tang Jin Wei sustained several broken ribs, but all are expected to make a full recovery."_

_"How soon might they be able to deploy again?"_ asked a reporter.

_"They will have several months of recovery. I cannot speculate on the timeframe so soon."_

Stacker was glad to hear that answer. However, during the post-engagement video conference between the commanding officers the next day, the proposal quickly came up to transfer Striker Eureka into the A-Team to fill in for Crimson Typhoon.

Ketteridge vetoed it. _"I don't want both of Sydney's Jaegers riding together unless we get a third. It leaves us completely exposed._ "

On one hand, it was a valid point. On the other... Stacker could tell from the dubious looks on multiple faces that he wasn't the only one wondering if this was retaliation for the Rangers' little rebellion.

But it was Ketteridge's call, and he didn't budge. So the decision was finally made to temporarily break up the A-Team so Coyote and Vulcan could each take one of the untried crews under their wing. Vulcan would ride with Tacit Ronin, and Coyote would ride with Striker Eureka.

* * *

_May 4, 2021…_

The next engagement let the Western Hemisphere crews put forward a good showing. Jurupari was a smaller Category III, so the Jaegers deployed in pairs again, breaking up their experienced teams to shepherd out the less broken-in crews. Hydra Corinthian and Cascade Victor repelled it from the coast of Panama, and no less than four Jaegers were surrounding the entrance to the canal. But Jurupari passed them by, and Matador Fury and Amazon Delta brought it down in the shallows off Tumaco, Colombia.

That successful kill, with relatively little damage and a low death toll, gave the Program a much-needed funding boost, and the commanding officers were able to finish the rebuild and re-launch of Silver Lion to Hong Kong and Diablo Intercept to Lima. The commemorations in Lima were especially moving, with Benjamin Gonzalez and Felipe Jara making their first public appearance since Hardship nearly killed them. The return of Silver Lion to China was more bittersweet, since the pilots of both of that nation's re-launched Jaegers were gone.

A coalition of Jaeger enthusiasts from multiple countries organized an international campaign to drum up support for the Rangers and their crews, which wound up being more successful than any of the official public relations events. Their Wounded Warrior campaigns and fundraisers won better benefits for the crew injured in the line of duty, and for the families of those who had died. Stacker worried about the media invasions that might result, but Vincent Gagnon and his wife sent reassurances that Duc's presence at their home was unknown.

As usual, Paul Terrence anticipated his concern, and emailed Stacker with the answer to the question Stacker hadn't yet asked: _Don't worry about him. He keeps a low profile, and fewer people recognize him these days. Most who do have the decency not to say anything._

_And what about the ones who lack decency?_

_They've all discovered the hard way that (1) he has a large circle of quiet protectors and (2) quiet as he is, he's quite capable of defending himself. Life among the work crews is sadly lawless, but he has only had to lift a finger in his own defense once. The men who brought that challenge sorely regretted it._

_He's in good health?_

_Very good. He's recovered entirely from his illness at Christmas, and the casual observer would never know how severe his injuries were last year. His left side is still weaker than the right, if you look closely._

_I hope you're not looking too closely. He's no fool._

_Don't worry. He thinks I'm American, and that like him, I move with the projects. He won't connect me to you. After the bunker projects are completed, recruiting is going on for the Wall in Japan. A large number will probably take it. I'll go if he does._

_Thank you._

_Chin up, old friend. And I don't wish to incite false hope, but you might be pleased to know that I've seen him performing Bushido drills. It may be nothing more than habit, as he's rather compulsive about exercising. Or it may be that he wishes to keep his skills sharp._

After Stacker read that last message, he stared at his screen for a long time.

A few investigative reporters did get as far as the California public works projects in their search for Raleigh Becket. Amid the filthy, crowded, and poorly-marked sites, restricted to authorized personnel only and whose supervisors didn't like media sniffing around, all eventually gave up. The story wasn't likely to earn the public interest that it would have a year ago. The ever-fickle public were already starting to forget that the Beckets had ever existed.

* * *

_June 2021..._

It took a lot of wrangling for the crews of Striker Eureka and Vulcan Specter to do any in-person, in-Jaeger training with their new teammates at all. Marshal Ketteridge did _not_ like the idea of either of his mechs going off-site for practice runs, and the Japanese didn't like letting Tacit Ronin or Coyote Tango travel to Australia either.

They eventually compromised on a half-dozen practice runs per team, split between their two Domes so each had three full-on deployment runs.

Herc was aggravated no end by the new pairings. The Tunaris knew their work and had a great record, but a simulator could only replicate the conditions of a team deployment so much. It would make a hell of a lot more sense for Striker and Vulcan to train - and deploy - together.

The kid didn't get it. All Chuck wanted was a deployment, and if pairing with a team in a different hemisphere increased his chances, he'd take it no matter how much higher it made the risk. "Get your priorities straight."

"Oh, and yours are?" Chuck retorted during one of their many arguments on the subject. "Is it really about safety to you or just sticking it to Ketteridge?"

"If you think _Ketteridge_ is about safety rather than just sticking it to Devi and Susanti, you've got your head up your ass! Or up _his_."

They snarled and pummeled each other in the Kwoon for days and didn't say a word to each other outside the simulator or the conn-pod until the crew got desperate enough that Kyrra had a come-to-Jesus talk with them. To Herc's embarrassment and frustration, she came down harder on him than on Chuck. "Give it a rest, Herc. We all know you hate Ketteridge's guts, but this bullshit isn't making it any easy for anybody, on Team Vulcan _or_ Team Striker."

Amid being as mortified as Herc over getting called on the carpet by their own chief engineer, Chuck was smug that it was Herc getting most of the dressing-down. Herc wearily shut his mouth about Ketteridge and tried to shut his mind off thoughts of throttling the kid.

He went to find Devi after both crews' work was done for the day. "I forgot to take that course at the Academy," he told her mournfully.

"What course?"

"How Not to Brain Your Damn Brat Offspring 101."

Devi roared with laughter and gave him a rowdy, one-armed hug. "Buck up, mate, he can't be that much worse than Suze."

"Wanna bet?"

But when Herc relayed the day's conversations, Devi sided with Kyrra. "What's done is done, at least until the next engagement. Yeah, part of this probably is payback, but we've all got bigger things to worry about. The Tunaris will do fine with you, we'll do fine with Team Ronin, so move on!"

"I don't like him getting away with it," Herc growled into his drink.

Devi eyed him. "Well, thanks for the sentiment, Hercules, but has it ever occurred to you that we damsels can decide when or if we need defending? Maybe it's not your bloody problem!"

"And the last time I thought something like this wasn't my problem, two girls got murdered and god knows how many others got raped!" Herc exploded before he could stop himself. _Ah, shit._ He shoved his glass away. He'd barely drunk half of it. That shouldn't be enough to blow away all his self-restraint. Maybe he was just getting old and dull-witted. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Devi came around the table and put a hand on his shoulder. He couldn't look at her. "And you wonder how you two can drift." That startled him out of his embarrassment, and he looked up to see her smirk. "The kid went looking for girls to rescue too, remember?" She had him there. He had forgotten. "Not every princess needs rescuing, sir knight. And even if they do, we've got dragons that need fighting. You can't save everyone."

It didn't help tension levels at the Sydney Shatterdome that the entire PPDC stayed at high alert starting a week after Jurupari was killed. The US and Russia were initiating their latest attempt on the Breach itself. Submarine-launched torpedoes, even nuclear ones hadn't had any effect (in fact, some critics insisted the attacks were the reason the number of kaiju was increasing), so now K-Watch and a team of strategists were trying to install a web of mines right at the mouth of the thing.

"If the rate of attacks keeps accelerating, it's going to be harder for K-Watch to keep their detectors on it, because major detonations blow everything out for miles," said Tendo. "You really think it's worth it? Hell, we shot an ICBM at the thing last year, and Atticon popped out right on time."

"I think it's worth a shot," Herc told him. "Missiles from a distance, there's still a lot of chance there. Maybe precision's the answer, or having the thing mined up to nail the kaiju when it comes out. At that depth, the nuke wouldn't be dangerous to us on shore."

Chuck didn't participate in those conversations, and Herc knew why. To his irritation, the kid wasn't at all enthusiastic about the offensive missions - not before he got a chance to kill a kaiju in Striker Eureka. _Of all the fucked-up priorities._

He managed not to say it out loud, but it was in the drift, volleying back and forth in bursts of Chuck's anger and hurt. _Like you weren't pissed off at having to wait two years before your first fight!_

_I didn't wish failure on anybody else._

_I'm NOT wishing failure on anybody!_

It didn't help that in the back of Herc's mind, he had to admit he'd be sorry never to have a chance to put Striker through his paces - and see how Chuck handled the real thing. Chuck knew that, and fumed over it in the drift during their next simulation. _My old man's a complete hypocrite, getting on me for having a problem with being sidelined._

Herc scoffed aloud in the conn-pod and almost pulled them out of alignment. _Maybe get it through your skull that every decision the Tacticians make isn't about_ you _._

_Yeah, I know, I know. I'm the most insignificant bastard to ever wear a drivesuit._ The kid clenched his fists and wouldn't look at him in the drift or in person. When the virtual kaiju came at them, they pounded it to a pulp in near-record time, but managed to lose points by not being careful where they were letting Blue gush onto their virtual city. They stalked out of the simulator in opposite directions.

* * *

_Sydney Shatterdome…  
June 30, 2021…_

It all came to a head at the end of June, when all the mines blew in reaction to new movement in the Breach. Six hours later, Batterer came battering his way out of the rubble (pun absolutely intended), ripped apart the unmanned observatory that survived the detonation, and vanished from sight.

"Aw, hell, this is gonna be a fun one," growled Tendo, on the comm to a frantic K-Watch. "We've got no sonar, no spectrometers for a ten-mile radius from the Breach, sir," he told Ketteridge.

"Christ. Can they give us _anything?_ A bloody best guess?!" Ketteridge demanded. "Which direction was he last headed? Get me Yamamoto and Okita on the comms!"

"Runoff and current patterns are good for southwest," Indra Hassan warned.

"Wonderful. Vulcan and Striker prep crews, I want you at pre-deployment immediately. Put the entire eastern quadrant of spotters in the air, tell them we've got a runaway."

"Already on it. Both Koreas, India, and the Chinese are sending out a sub formation to try and pinpoint him. China and India need permission to enter our zone."

"Done."

Herc, Chuck, Devi, and Susanti didn't have much to say or do during that wait. It didn't help that at this point in the summer, the Pacific typhoon season was in full swing and all manner of storms and disturbances were disrupting the currents. The first news came when Batterer plowed across Yap, then took out one of India's submarines between Yap and Palau.

_"That track is typical of the ones aiming for the Philippines,_ " K-Watch reported. _"Typhoon Yeren pushed a lot of runoff eastward into the Philippine Sea._ "

" _Is Japan in the clear?_ " Admiral Yamamoto asked.

_"Probably. Definitely south, probably southwest._ "

_"Marshal Ketteridge, where do you want Coyote Tango?_ " asked Admiral Okita.

Ketteridge scanned the map without bothering to look at the Hansens or Hassans. "Manila. Striker Eureka will meet them there." Herc managed not to wince. Bring Tacit Ronin here to Sydney. They'll stay on home base with Vulcan Specter."

_"You don't want Vulcan in Indonesia?_ "

"I'm keeping one of mine at home. Let China cover Indonesia, and Striker and Coyote can always move. Crews, on deck." Ketteridge wasn't fool enough to cast so much as a smirk in the Hassans' direction, but the four pilots exchanged bitter, knowing looks as they headed for their bays.

Herc could feel that even amid the heart-hammering excitement of deployment, Chuck was as dismayed as he felt. _Bastard's trying to shut Vulcan out. He'll keep them benched from now on, every chance he gets._

It was another entry in the girls' book of virtues that neither one dropped a hint of being anything but encouraging to Chuck. "You've got this, love," Devi told him, giving him a quick kiss on the forehead. Suze grinned and pinched his cheek as he turned bright red. "Keep your head out there. Keep focused."

"I will," Chuck said, and Herc nodded, glad to sense how serious he was taking it.

They rode out to the Manila base in Greg Oliver's chopper. "Is Danny disappointed?" Herc asked him.

"He hasn't said, but can't hardly blame him if he is," Greg replied. He and Herc exchanged a grimace. Neither of them were exactly thrilled with this posting, but for different reasons.

"Manila's one of the biggest cities," Chuck said. "It's been hit twice now. They need a top team covering it."

"Coyote's top, but we're not," Herc answered curtly without thinking. The kid smarted at that, and he sighed. He hadn't meant to snap. "Where're the other teams getting placed?"

Kyrra stuck her tablet between them and brought up the latest blip map. "Katana Eagle's stuck on guard duty in Tokyo. Echo Saber and Cherno Alpha are in Naha, Shaolin Rogue and Bering Tigress in Taiwan, Butterfly Sword and Chrome Brutus are in Vietnam. They're keeping Silver Lion and Nova Hyperion in Hong Kong on reserve, but K-Watch doesn't think the bogey will run that far north."

"Are we too far north in Manila, then?" Chuck asked worriedly.

Kyrra frowned at the map. "We might be. Then again, we might not. If he was aiming for the Celebes Sea again, someone off Pulau would have pinged by now, and they haven't seen him."

"What about more south than west? Could he be aiming for Papua or the Solomon Islands?" Herc suggested. The last ping had been well away from the island of Yap, but it was so small that sometimes the kaiju passed it by. That was a lot of territory between Australia and the Philippines that didn't have a Jaeger standing by, thanks to Ketteridge's insistence on keeping Vulcan and Ronin in Sydney. "I don't like it. We need coverage on them."

Kyrra relayed it, and the other commanding officers chimed in to agree... but although Ketteridge now had Rio Sentry and Mammoth Apostle on-site, he sent them out instead. _"Dispatching Rio and Mammoth to Jayapura City, Papua. Coverage area is north to Micronesia, east to the Solomons._ "

Herc got a text from Devi. _We'll deal with it AFTER the alert. Don't worry about it now. You've got a kaiju to manage._

"We _will_ say something," Kyrra murmured in his ear, apparently tipped off by someone (probably Susanti.) "Formally, an official protest that nobody can ignore. Tendo says Ketteridge fell all over Team Mammoth and embarrassed the hell out of them, right in front of our crews. And he did the same crap with Elida and Nicho that he does with Evie and Danny - fawn over the guy, ignore the girl."

"Fucker," Herc spat, but took a deep breath and gave Kyrra a humorless smile. "Yeah, I know. Later."

It wound up being much, _much_ later. Team Striker arrived in Manila four hours before Team Coyote. Maybe it was good luck, or somebody just had the sensitivity to install them in a different building than the one that Lucky Seven had occupied two years before. Herc and Chuck talked even less than usual as they went through drills and exercises, trying to pass the time.

Once the Tunaris joined them, the four of them worked out together and listened to the reports coming in from the spotters: namely, variations on a theme of " _where the hell is the bastard?!"_

_"Top speed, no detours, a kaiju hits Luzon in thirty-six hours, but this guy was well below top speed when he pinged southwest of Guam,_ " Tendo reported. _"And he hasn't pinged the sonar net off Pulau, so he may have detoured - west is K-Watch's guess._ "

Herc and the others squinted at the fuzzy infrared images of the night pass Batterer had made through Guam. "Are we sure about the category? He looks like a big III. Will Butterfly and Chrome be able to handle this bastard if he goes for Hong Kong?"

" _Hey!_ " Oops, he hadn't noticed someone was on the line from Hong Kong.

"Sorry, mates, no offense intended. You've just got the biggest target."

_"We've also got the biggest Jaeger. Don't make us angry._ "

"You won't like them when they're angry," the Tunaris chorused with everyone on the line, and Herc had to laugh. "As soon as we know the bogey's passed south of Taiwan, Okita's running Echo and Cherno into the target zone. They can back up Chrome and Butterfly in Hong Kong if they need it."

But the hours crept by, and there was still no sign of the kaiju. The commanding officers divided the teams into sleep shifts, and Herc and Vic did the same for their site crews. The four pilots made use of cots in the quietest part of the building and tossed and turned through another long, uneasy night. Everyone jolted out of bed in a panic when a report came in that a ship had gone off the radar to the _south_ of the Philippines, but it turned out to be power failure.

Another day of pacing outside in the sweltering heat, mechanically swallowing protein bars and electrolyte drinks, and drilling in the gym. Herc privately observed that the PPDC's recruiting offices in the Philippines had been severely downsized. In 2019, they'd had forty pre-screened for the next class at the Academy. For the latest Academy class, they'd sent five.

Vic and Gunnar were lamenting having forgotten to bring their trusty dance pad. Chuck was wishing he'd brought Max. Back in Sydney, Marian Taior and young Sarla Johar confirmed they were keeping him fed and exercised.

Another sunset. Manila was eerily silent, and the media was showing videos of the same scene up and down the Pacific coasts. Evacuations could rarely keep pace with a kaiju, but for once, the population had time on their side. The bunkers had filled up, and emergency crews were even bringing food and water and medical supplies to the ones who were holed up there. The groups who hadn't made it into the nearest shelter were having enough time to get out of the city centers into the surrounding towns and countryside. China, Vietnam, Manila and Davao were even going so far as to darken all non-essential lights.

_"As the sun rises on the fourth day since a Category III kaiju emerged from the Breach, nearly one-fourth of the planet's population can do nothing now except wait and wonder,"_ a news announcer intoned.

"We just broke the record on the longest stretch without a ping," Tendo told Herc wearily as the Rangers shuffled into LOCCENT on July 5th.

"What was the old one?" asked Vic Tunari.

"Yamarashi," said Chuck absently, his eyes on the map. "Seventy-two hours."

_"If we had walls around our coastal cities, we wouldn't_ have _to wait like this!"_ some politician huffed on the television.

Hardly anyone even said anything aloud, but nearly everyone in Manila LOCCENT flipped off the screen.

"It's the Fourth of July back home," Tendo remarked to Vic and Gunnar.

"I know, man. We usually go to Okinawa Base for fireworks and apple pie. This kaiju just earned himself an all-American ass-beating." Gunnar stared mournfully at his protein bar. " _'I coulda been at a barbecue!'_ "

"' _And what the hell is that smell!?'_ " Tendo bellowed in a surprisingly good Will Smith imitation.

Herc and Chuck burst into laughter. "I _loved_ that movie!" Chuck hooted. "We used to watch it on the Fourth of July with the American kids, every year in family housing. ' _Oh no, you did NOT shoot that green shit at me!'_ "

Herc mock-toasted the Americans with his water bottle. "First summer in Kodiak, they'd just started building the Assembly Facility and the Academy, so we were packed into a couple of warehouses. I sat up all night with Stacker Pentecost and Tamsin Sevier, arguing about whether the Aussies or the British could've won the air battle in _Independence Day_."

"Did you come to a consensus?"

"Damned if I remember."

They all jumped out of their skin when alarms went off at the LOCCENT stations, and Tendo dove for his. "I think we've got a ping... _holy shit,_ we have a sighting - gimme the frequency, somebody!"

There still wasn't a new blip on the holomap, but the first thing that registered on both Herc and Chuck was that the frantic voice on the radio was Australian. _" - losing rear cabin pressure! Propeller shaft seal is compromised - mayday! Mayday!"_

_"Pilot, give us your position!"_

_" - ndoning ship, trying to surface! Repeat, kaiju is pursuing us, bearing south-southwest 30 knots!"_

Herc was looking at the LOCCENT screens, but the blip finally came up on the map, Chuck's stomach dropped so intensely that he spun around before anyone had the chance to say anything.

It was one of _Australia's_ submarines, off New Caledonia, nearly three thousand miles away. Moving southwest... straight towards Sydney and Brisbane.

Manila LOCCENT was dead silent as the shouted transmission from the submarine captain gave way to screams and the roar of air and water and tortured metal, and then nothing but a spotter pilot trying without success to raise him again. _"She's off the radar, sir. Repeat, the Ryan Sounder is down. Last known location, eighteen nautical miles north-northwest of Ile Art, bearing south-southwest. Kaiju sighting confirmed, bearing south-southwest approximately thirty-five knots."_

_"Extreme red alert, Sydney, Brisbane, Cairns, Townsville, Mackay - northeast coast of Australia, extreme red alert. East of Cairns, south of Sydney, red alert. New Zealand, extreme red alert. Tasmania, red alert."_

Chuck looked around in confusion. "Well?! Aren't we going?"

Herc held up a hand to silence him as they all heard Ketteridge's voice on the main K-watch line. Bastard had to be shitting himself. " _Give me a bloody answer! Is it Sydney or Brisbane?!"_

_"_ _We don't know until he breaks the Coral Sea web, sir! Last heading was Brisbane, Sunshine Coast or Gold Coast. At current speed, we'll know in the next two hours."_

_"_ _Get Striker Eureka and Coyote Tango back here, now!_ "

Chuck was ready to bolt, but Herc caught the kid's arm to slow him down. Sure enough, Tendo voiced what they were all thinking. "Marshal, this is Manila LOCCENT. Even if we put the pilots in the conn-pods now, we've got at least twelve hours travel time for the Jaegers."

_"_ _Rio Sentry and Mammoth Apostle are half that distance,"_ pressed Marshal Ramirez from LA. _"They can be at the landfall site in eight hours._ "

Herc felt a deep, leaden lump in his guts that he quickly realized wasn't his own heart. It was Chuck's, sinking as the situation sank in. Unless the kaiju completely doubled back again, it would make landfall in Brisbane or Sydney within four hours. The soonest Striker Eureka could get there was tomorrow morning. And four Jaegers would be ahead of them.

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** _ _Chuck never imagined that his classmates might get to engage a kaiju before he did. Our teenaged Ranger struggles to handle disappointment and envy like the adult he wants to be as his eighteenth birthday approaches, and his fellow Rangers decide it's time for Herc to step up and be a dad in_ _**Chapter Thirty-Three: Growing Pains!** _
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Marshal Blake Ketteridge: Commanding Officer of Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force.
> 
> Hedy Keres and Peter Lepp: Pilots of Eden Assassin, Russia's Mark-2. Estonian Air Force pilots in their 30s, they fell in love during drift training in early 2016, and became the third pilot couple to marry.
> 
> Yelena and Katerina (Katya) Pevelina: Pilots of Bering Tiger (aka Bering Tigress), Russia's Mark-3. First cousins, engineers from Siberia in their early 30s.
> 
> Benjamin Gonzalez and Felipe Jara: Former pilots of Diablo Intercept, Chile's Mark-2. Chilean submarine crew before the war, mid-30s, they were both nearly killed during a fierce battle with Hardship in Concepcion, Chile in January 2019. Romeo Blue was their teammate and went on to kill Hardship, but not before Diablo Intercept was severely damaged, and Ben and Felipe suffered disabling injuries that ended their career as Rangers.
> 
> Paul Terrence: An old friend of Stacker's, Londoner, late 50s, who has been wandering and working during the war and now, at Stacker's request, is a supervisor on the Anti-Kaiju Wall Construction and quietly keeping an eye on Raleigh Becket.
> 
> Kyrra Taior: Chief Engineer for Lucky Seven, then Striker Eureka. Aboriginal, Herc's age. Youngest and sole surviving daughter of Marian Taior, an elderly aboriginal woman who occasionally looked after Chuck when he was younger.
> 
> Greg Oliver: Herc's comrade and fellow chopper pilot from before K-Day, now a support pilot for Lucky Seven. Like Herc, he joined the Jaeger Program in the wake of Scissure. He lost his parents and his oldest daughter, Karina, in the attack. His son, Danny, was accepted into the Jaeger Academy after four tries despite lower academic scores than Chuck, and is now pilot of Tacit Ronin.
> 
> Sarla Johar: A teen in Sydney Shatterdome's family housing, Indian-Australian, age 15, orphaned by Scissure and adopted by her aunt, who was on Lucky Seven's crew. Like Chuck, she planned to attend the Academy, and is also a talented artist. She drew the picture of Max with the bomb which becomes Striker Eureka's logo.


	33. Growing Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck never imagined that his classmates might get to engage a kaiju before he did. Our teenaged Ranger struggles to handle disappointment and envy like the adult he wants to be as his eighteenth birthday approaches, and his fellow Rangers decide it's time for Herc to step up and be a dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** _ _Thank you all so much for the reviews! Please keep them coming! If Chuck's mindset seems a little melodramatic in this chapter, remember - he's a teenager. And if both Herc and Chuck's unsympathetic attitudes about depression are frustrating - remember, they're military men who aren't very good at analyzing feelings.  
> _

**Chapter Thirty-Three: Growing Pains**

_July 5, 2021…_

_This is the way it goes, kid._

Chuck barely said a word on the flight back to Sydney. Striker Eureka and his jumphawks were still in mid-air when Vulcan Specter and Tacit Ronin made the intercept at the entrance to Brisbane's Moreton Bay six hours later. Greg Oliver had the foresight to give the chopper controls over to his own co-pilot once he knew his son was definitely going into combat.

In the back of the jumphawk, Herc and the rest of the crew huddled around tablets set to the official PPDC channel to watch, and Herc struggled not to look at his son.

Back-up was still four hours away, and the Hassans were now defending their home city with a completely-untried partner. Even so, there wound up being little for Mammoth Apostle and Rio Sentry to do apart from touching down in the city proper and cheering Ronin and Vulcan on. "Team Australia," as the media christened them, had the situation well in hand.

Batterer was built like an anvil, his six leg/arms absurdly small under his huge, blunt head, trunk, and relatively-short tail. He presented a good target for Tacit Ronin's chest guns, and although it took a few tries for both Jaegers to pierce his tough armor, they soon had beautiful slashes of blue across his face. Devi and Susanti sounded more ferocious in this fight than Herc could ever recall, but there was no need to question why. This was their home under attack, the very scenario that had seemed so absurd and sadistic when the psychs dragged everyone through it in the simulator.

Herc watched Greg through a lot of the fight broadcast, and more than once, almost reached out to put a hand on his friend's shoulder. He held back, though, imagining how he'd feel in Greg's shoes. Keeping a grip would be hard enough for the man without anyone prodding him. Herc tried not to imagine being in the conn-pod, but the ghost drift from Chuck was almost overpowering with the desire to be…and shame that he wasn't.

_There's nothing to be ashamed of,_ Herc wanted to say. But he figured it wouldn't make any difference, so he didn't say anything.

Thousands of miles away, Chuck's classmates, Danny Oliver and Evie Nakano, had a flawless debut. And it was Danny who warned the Hassans, " _Save your lava for now, Vulcan. Let's get under his armor first._ "

So Vulcan unleashed his meteor hammers with full force, bashing Batterer's plates until they cracked, then Ronin tore into him with his blades. The kaiju tried to retreat more than once, scrabbling onto the beaches of Moreton Island and causing Suze to roar, " _Quit bleeding on my park, you piece of shit!_ " They nailed him between the eyes with another meteor blow and pummeled him back into the shallows, and dragged him bodily back when he tried to make a run for it.

Once Tacit Ronin took out two of Batterer's four eyes with a slash from his fangblades, the two crews decided it was time to incinerate the bastard. Ronin hacked off one of his limbs, grabbed one side of his head and slammed him down into the mud, giving the Hassans time to get up close and personal and put a searing dose of their lava straight into the skull fractures.

After five hours of combat, the shortest engagement in over a year, the kaiju Batterer met his gruesome end in the Coral Sea without ever making landfall in Brisbane. On the beaches of the mainland, watching the action, Mammoth Apostle and Rio Sentry just worship-bowed to their fellow Jaegers as Ronin and Vulcan raised their arms to the rejoicing city.

_"_ _Not since Yamarashi has a kaiju been so poetically slaughtered by a Jaeger in defense of home turf!_ " a news announcer gushed. " _Australia's own Vulcan Specter and Japan's Tacit Ronin, co-piloted by another Aussie, have beaten back Batterer!_ "

Now Herc grinned and squeezed Greg's arm. Greg did _not_ turn around, but squeezed Herc's hand in acknowledgement.

Herc didn't have to wonder where the knot in his insides was coming from. He didn't look to his left, and knew Chuck didn't want him looking. The kid was relieved, to his credit, seeing Vulcan and Ronin come through safe and undamaged, their pilots unharmed, their hometown safe, but…

But.

The ghost drift was a maelstrom of emotion that Herc tried to just shut out, half-formed words and images mixed with a whole mess of need and want, underscored by the same sense of helplessness Herc felt at being stuck in the air, unable to do anything but listen to the broadcast. Chuck was trying just as hard to get it under control, so Herc knew it would be better just to let him deal and not say anything unless he stepped out of line. Herc knew Chuck wouldn't appreciate anything he had to say anyway, especially with the jumphawk pilots listening, but it was rough tamping down on the urge to do so.

Vic and Gunnar buzzed them a few minutes later from their flight. _"You guys still breathing over there?_ "

"Recovering," Herc laughed. Greg still wasn't looking around, but he did laugh and give a thumbs-up. "You coming down to Sydney or turning around now?"

_"_ _We'll head south with you first, give our triumphant crews some high-fives. We were trainers for 2016-B. That's five kills for Vulcan Specter!"_

"Good God!" Greg exclaimed. "Is that the record?"

_"_ _They've now got six engagements, so that is the record. They've tied the top kill count with good ol' Gipsy Danger._ "

* * *

It was like a kettledrum beating in Chuck's mind, and a voice chanting, _You missed it. You missed your chance._

All morning he'd been wishing for the choppers to fly faster. Now he wanted them to fly slower, anything to put off arriving in Sydney long enough to get a bloody grip on himself. If he didn't, he was going to end up even more fucking humiliated than he already was.

It was bad enough, feeling Kyrra's eyes, Dad's eyes, even the eyes of Danny Oliver's dad on him. Everybody in the command jumphawk was looking at Chuck. He looked fixedly out the window. If he made eye contact with anyone, he was going to lose it and look even more pathetic than he already did.

He knew what his old man would say. Get a grip, grow the hell up, get over yourself. It's not about you. Worse, he'd be right.

Vulcan was now the best Jaeger in the world, the Hassans the best team. Chuck ought to be happy for them, proud to share the Shatterdome with them and be trained by them. He ought to be dancing in his chair imagining the look on Marshal Ketteridge's face as Devi and Susanti took down a kaiju right at their own front door.

He needed to suck it up and tell Danny and Evie the truth. They'd had a damn good fight. They'd earned their kill stamp, backed up Vulcan. They'd done the Jessops proud.

_Why'd I always take it for granted that I'd get an engagement before he did?_

Had they taken it for granted? What were they expecting from him now, an admission that they were the better crew, and they'd always have more kills than he ever would? _They rank me now. They've had a kill. I'm still a rookie on the sidelines._

He dozed restlessly on and off, his dreams full of mocking, scornful faces and whispers. _So much for all Chuck Hansen's big talk._

_You'll never measure up; you'll never take a kaiju._

_Your sim scores might as well be video games._

_You'll never get the real thing..._

_Never..._

They landed in Sydney to see the two triumphant Jaegers being moved into the Dome on their crawlers. Vulcan and Ronin looked very good. Chuck didn't see any signs of major damage that would take them out of action for a long stretch. The Sydney Shatterdome was an absolute mob scene, with crowds at the fences waving signs and banners and flowers, press with their cameras and their trucks.

Chuck suddenly realized the growing tension in his stomach wasn't just his own; Herc was worrying about what he'd do or say in public. It was all he could do not to growl. Did his old man really think he was going to spit in fellow Rangers' faces?

As much as he wanted to run inside the Shatterdome and hide, he wasn't about to do that.

But Herc didn't say anything and Chuck didn't say anything, and once they landed, Herc jumped out of the chopper and Chuck stayed at his heels to jog across the tarmac and shove through the crowd towards Team Vulcan and Team Ronin. _Happy, right. Excited for them, proud of them._ He fixed something like a grin on his face and followed his old man's lead.

With Devi and Suze, it was easy. Just like when he'd first come back from Anchorage: salutes followed by hugs. The Hassans' jackets now had five kill stamps, and Chuck made a show of counting them. It saved him from having to look Devi or Suze in the eye too long. Amid the babble of voices all rehashing the fight and the scores and everyone's reactions, he didn't actually have to say too much, just make noises like he was laughing and elated.

"I guess you did pull your weight." Suze swatted him.

Then he saw Danny and Evie over her shoulder, and had to gulp against his surging stomach.

They were still talking to Greg, but Herc was letting Devi and Indra go. Chuck hurriedly shifted past Suze to join his father, and his eyes met Danny's – weird, Danny Oliver looked almost as nervous as Chuck felt.

Why should Danny be nervous?

Chuck moved on autopilot next to his old man, exchanging salutes with Tacit Ronin's pilots. Instead of hugs, Herc moved in for a firm handshake, which Chuck echoed. "Great fight, son," he said to Danny.

_Have to say something, have to say something, anything -_ Chuck nodded towards the stamp on Danny's jacket. "Looks good on you."

"Thanks." Danny looked at him, almost as if he expected Chuck to say something more. It made Chuck growl mentally – did Danny think that just because they'd fucked a few times, Chuck owed him more than that? Then again, maybe he did.

"You did good." The words stuck a little in Chuck's throat and he felt the sting of envy. Danny, the one who had such a rough time in school and the Academy, had helped kill a kaiju. He'd always been behind Chuck, in classes and in fights… until now.

"Thanks."

"They kicked ASS!" shrieked Danny's eleven-year-old sister, Emma. Their parents and grandmother were mortified, but at least the roar of laughter and applause had the effect of getting attention off Chuck and the excruciating awkwardness.

Speaking of excruciating awkwardness, here came Ketteridge. "There, you see? There was a method to my madness," he boasted, completely without shame, clapping Danny and Evie on the shoulders. Chuck prayed that the cameras caught the looks of disbelief on the crews' faces, and that people would reach the right conclusion. _Still two-faced, switching sides whenever you like. If this fight hadn't gone well, you'd be blaming Devi and Suze._ Contempt at Ketteridge's words made Chuck turn away from the crowd, hoping his face wouldn't betray his thoughts. He didn't need to get in trouble for crap like that. God only knew what Ketteridge – or worse, Dad – would think if he did.

He forced himself to put in an appearance at the festivities that raged into the night in and around the Shatterdome. He brought Max along, getting the usual squeals and extra attention to make up for his own absence from quarters for nearly a week – and it had the bonus of causing people to fuss over the dog rather than look at Chuck.

He wandered blindly through the party, dodging Dr. Dahari and the reporters who'd been granted entrance and pretended it was too noisy to hear anyone clearly. He laughed at the shenanigans that started up invariably with the Tunaris in attendance. His old man was soon ensconced in a poker game with Team Mammoth Apostle, Indra Hassan, Kyrra, and a bunch of the other senior staff, which at least spared Chuck from having to talk to him.

Someone finally had the decency to kick the reporters off the base after one of them shoved a microphone into Evie Nakano's face and asked, "What's it like to drift with someone who's autistic?"

"Huh?!"

Judging by the baffled expression on Greg Oliver's face and the confusion…rapidly turning to disbelief and outrage on the other faces in the vicinity, Chuck gathered this was news to all concerned. He certainly didn't recall ever hearing that before. The reporter, some American who'd been sucking up to Ketteridge all night, yammered on, "I have a source that Ranger Oliver is on the autism spectrum."

Evie just stared. "Your source doesn't know what they're talking about," said Danny, keeping impressive casualness about it when everyone else looked ready to jump the reporter.

"But didn't you have to receive a special accommodation at the Jaeger Academy?"

Chuck was torn between complete confusion, wondering if this was one more thing that would piss him off about Danny bloody Oliver, and outrage that some asshole muckraker would spring this on a Jaeger pilot – any Jaeger pilot – the night after his first kill. His _first kill. His, whatever "accommodations" they might have given him, he proved them all, so it's a bloody non-issue._

The PR reps were busy running interference with the Hassans, who had been getting most of the press attention for now having the engagement record and highest kill score of any Jaeger crew. Someone went running towards them, and other crew started pressing towards the offending reporter, but before anyone could halt it, Danny went for it. "I got an accommodation for dyscalculia, that's all. As long as I'm not having to read numbers, I'm fine, so the Academy knew it wouldn't interfere with me being a pilot."

"Oh, so you have a learning disability!" the reporter chirped. "What an inspiration!"

"Team Ronin, we need more pictures!" someone had the sense to yell, and Danny and Evie bolted while Chuck was still wrapping his brain around it.

_Reading numbers… "dyscalculia"?... learning disability… shit._

He was finally creeping back to quarters when Danny and Evie caught him in the corridor. "We've got our own room," Danny offered, a giggling, tipsy Evie on his arm. His face fell when he saw Chuck's expression. "Hey… look…"

" – It's fine!" Chuck croaked, backing away. "Seriously, it's not – I mean – just not here – you were great – I mean it – I'm hap – really – for you – it was a great kill – but I gotta – go…" he gave up and just walked quickly away, taking all the restraint he had not to run.

He was intensely relieved that Herc wasn't home yet. He crawled into his bunk and scooted over to make room for Max, rubbing the dog's belly while chanting in his head. He wouldn't break. He wouldn't. No matter how bad it felt, he wouldn't.

He woke to a buzz from the interface, announcing a Corps-wide message. He fumbled for it automatically before he remembered that he was trying to find excuses to stay off the grid –

_Attention all PPDC personnel. It is central Command's sad duty to inform you that Ranger Duc Jessop passed away this morning, July 7, 2021. Personnel are instructed to observe memorial protocol for the next two weeks._

Chuck stared at the screen for a long time. Max whined and nudged his arm. "Damn it," he murmured allowed, and pulled the dog into his lap.

Duc Jessop hadn't been very well last year when he'd been the Academy instructor. Nobody had talked about it, but they'd all known it. It had really sunk in after he started drifting with his old man, and saw memories in Herc's mind of a happier Duc, who laughed and joked and blew through the physical trials like it was all just sport. Duc Jessop had been the only other Aussie to make it through the Jaeger Academy until Chuck and Danny Oliver.

Nobody knew exactly what the circumstances were that had grounded the Jessops and sent Tacit Ronin into almost four years of refit… but Kaori's death and Duc's declining health had given a lot of clues.

When a stab of shock and grief lanced through Chuck's guts, he knew that his old man had just seen the announcement. Without thinking, he got up and went looking for his uniform and the black armbands that were issued to everyone.

So ended the celebrations for the defeat of Batterer, he realized, and sighed to himself. He'd wanted that part to be over… but not like this. Never like this.

* * *

_On this seventh day of July, 2021, the Commonwealth of Australia mourns one of her greatest soldiers. The pilots of the second Jaeger, Tacit Ronin, are reunited in immortality today. They join the ranks of heroes who stood on the front lines against the greatest terror the human race has ever known, in the greatest achievement human ingenuity has ever made. Eleven of these remarkable men and women have given their lives in humanity's defense. On this day, let us remember them and honor them. The commonwealth of Australia salutes one of her finest sons, Duc Jessop._

Another flag-lowering, another two weeks of formalities and interviews and remembrance… then Tendo would get to see the public start yammering on about the next big story and forget all about Duc Jessop.

But Duc's death wasn't the only reason things were down at the Sydney Shatterdome. Granted, the memorials had everyone moving a little slower and quieter, but even then, there was no missing the state of Striker Eureka's left hemisphere. Some of the crew closest to the Hansens were getting worried.

"We knew Chuck would be disappointed as hell not to get a fight, let alone against the first kaiju to hit Australia since Scissure, _and_ when Danny Oliver did," Indra mused. "But this... he's lower than just disappointment."

"You think somebody should talk to him?" Tendo asked.

"Maybe. Ordinarily, Devi would've already done it, but since she actually did get the kill, we're not so sure. Maybe this is one time Team Vulcan should step back."

"You should do it," Alison told Tendo.

"Me? I barely know the kid."

Indra gave him a searching look. "Well, that won't do. You're his LOCCENT chief. You _should_ know him."

Alison backed him, insisting Tendo should risk their moody younger Ranger's wrath. "Come on, you've mediated between pilots all the time. You're good at it. Step up, Choi."

For some reason, Tendo suddenly imagined Yancy saying that. It finally pushed him into action.

He found the kid in the Kwoon, blazing through hanbō forms with intense concentration. Max was sitting patiently on the cool concrete along the wall, big dark eyes studying his owner. _You've noticed too, huh, Max?_ Up until the Brisbane engagement, Chuck spent all the time he could outdoors, often pushing for drills and sparring to be out on the grass instead of inside. Now he stayed in.

Tendo got his own staff, raising his eyebrows for an invitation. The kid didn't say a word or even nod, just stepped back into stance and waited for Tendo to join him.

Sparring with Rangers was always interesting, especially for the first time. Tendo mentally scolded himself for not challenging Chuck before now. Indra was right: he'd been holding back when he shouldn't have been. While Jaeger Bushido had been invented to facilitate and measure drift compatibility, the "dial-up" forms were useful to everyone. You could learn a lot from a person by sparring with them.

Herc Hansen, like most Rangers, had a competitive spirit, but he'd keep it in check unless he was in a really aggressive mood, enjoying the chance to feel out his partner/opponent and learn their approach. He knew the Bushido and hanbō forms by heart - everyone who'd ever passed the first cut did - but under that, most of his fighting skill came from boxing and informal brawls. His style reminded Tendo a lot of Yancy Becket.

All three Hassans had multiple years of practice at Indonesian and Filipino martial arts that had been popular in their neighborhood in Brisbane, _silat_ and _eskrima_. They all still used the _silat_ salute when they started and finished sessions with each other, which looked more like an Indian _namaste_ than the bow at the waist that the Bushido fightmasters had taught. It was a lot more formal and graceful than Western kickboxing, and you had to watch out for getting nailed in a pressure point when you sparred with someone who used it.

Chuck Hansen was certainly an interesting opponent. He moved with the blunt, hard-charging directness of a ram, with fewer feints or retreats than any other Ranger Tendo had ever watched or fought. It was still damn hard to get a hit in under his defenses. Tendo had kept up his practice, both for fitness and the fun and challenge of it, but he was no match for Chuck. He did a little better with the hanbō than without, only losing by two points, as opposed to hand-to-hand where he got exactly one hit in... out of seven matches.

"Whoof! Okay, okay, I surrender!" he grunted, staggering out of stance after one too many fists to the ribs. Max barked, and Tendo grinned through the ropes at the dog. "No commentary, you." He accepted Chuck's silent hand up, and observed, "That was a Hassan block, there. I used to see it at the Academy."

"Yeah, I forgot you were in their class. The greatest generation," Chuck muttered.

Tendo plunged in, pretending he didn't notice the edge in the kid's voice and treating it as a joke. "Nah, that title belongs to the Class of 2015, if any. And remember, some of them didn't see action for over a year after launching. Puma might've been a Mark-2, but Carlos and Jordana joined up at the same time your dad did. They didn't get their hands on a kaiju until 2019."

He wasn't sure if it was a good sign or not that the notoriously-prickly Chuck didn't brush him off or snap at him.

* * *

A few days later, after a similar conversation with Kyrra, Marian, Greg, and all three Hassans, Chuck did snap at Vic Tunari.

He'd taken to eating at weird hours just to avoid people, and it did work... for awhile. But Vic and Gunnar found him shortly before they were due to return to Nagasaki, the brothers plunked themselves onto the bench on either side of him without so much as a "Mind if we join you?"

"Y'know you who remind me of?" asked Vic.

"Do _not_ say Raleigh Becket," Chuck growled without thinking.

There was a long pause, and he felt his ears turning red, but, well, there it was, it was out there, and he was stuck with it. So he scowled at his tray and didn't look up.

Vic surprised him. "Actually, I meant _him._ " He stuck a hand into Chuck's line of vision, unmistakably pointing at his brother.

Chuck looked at Gunnar before he could stop himself. The younger Tunari brother rolled his eyes. "I blame my parents for the name they gave me. I didn't handle eighteen months of sitting on my ass too well either, and then our first kaiju decided to run and get his ass kicked in Shanghai instead."

"Razorfin was a good fight," Chuck protested. He'd never heard anyone suggest Coyote had been subpar in any of their engagements.

"We didn't get to _finish_ it, though. Lemme tell you, the first time that happens, you'll be trying to chase the damn thing off an undersea cliff too, screaming at him to get his pansy-ass back and finish what he started."

Chuck burst out laughing, and saw every single person in the mess hall turn and look at him in surprise – even Max. "And I thought Cherno Alpha thumping his chest was bad."

"That's not his chest; it just looks like it."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, it's really his fists. We've all made him do it the first time we get to ride him in the simulator."

"Good." Gunnar stole a carrot stick off his plate. "You kids need to keep the traditions. I was glad to see Striker dance after launch."

Chuck picked his plate up to toss whatever they didn't want. Vic shook his head, but Gunnar took the rest of the carrots, and munched on them as they walked Max outside. "I have to live up to everybody who's come before, keep all the traditions, and it gets so bloody exhausting. When am I gonna be the experienced one? Will there be anyone to teach it to?" he added sourly, gesturing at the big frame of the Sydney Coastal Wall now visible at the mouth of the harbor.

Gunnar snorted and lobbed one of the carrots across the tarmac; Max pulled off his leash to chase it down and eat it. "I think you will. Just wait 'till the first time a kaiju comes through a wall. They could build a fort out of solid concrete and it'll take an egg timer to measure the kaiju's advance right through it. Then they'll decide we're worth the money after all." Chuck had to smile. "Can he eat these?" Gunnar asked before throwing another carrot.

"Yeah, they're safe. Go ahead." Chuck whistled at Max, who trotted eagerly back and this time caught the treat in midair. He looked at the Mark-1 pilots and dared to ask, "Didn't it ever grate on you, inheriting from someone else?"

Their hesitation made him cringe, and he looked down. So the answer was no. They'd been honored and flattered and all that jazz, and Chuck Hansen was just a self-centered ass who didn't give a damn about anybody else, including all the Jaeger pilots who'd paved the way for him to be where he was. _Including my old man?_

He couldn't look at them. It was Gunnar who finally answered. "You're inheriting a lot more pressure than we did. It was all new when we started. We were getting the chance to be the saviors, and nobody had the nerve to suggest it was a bad idea. Right before we re-launched, Maria and Miguel were the first jockeys to go down in battle. The whole world mourned for months. Just two years later, Kaori and Jiro are dead, and the brass drags Duc and Hayase around like sideshow freaks until they're dead. And when they did die they're a fucking footnote." Chuck was looking at him by the end, forgetting his own embarrassment as Gunnar got steadily more furious, finishing more like a rant, glaring at the frame of the Wall. "Some of the Chinese media are saying that Crimson Typhoon should be scrapped instead of repaired, that it's a waste of funding and effort after they've taken down three kaiju in the space of a year, bitching that the Weis are just a product of hype. _All_ of us are just hype."

Vic smiled grimly, and nodded back towards Striker's bay in the Dome. "And the most over-hyped, over-priced of them all. Along with the youngest. You're getting a lot of shit. We all know that."

Chuck felt himself smiling, finding that, for once, words of commiseration were welcome. "I've had pep talks from every bloody direction since Batterer, as if the shit-talk wasn't enough."

"Sorry. I guess it all starts sounding the same. Was your dad first or last?"

"Oh, he didn't. He doesn't pep-talk." Chuck wasn't sure why Vic and Gunnar looked so surprised at that. _If there's one thing my old man never does, it's give pep-talks._

* * *

Baffled, Vic and Gunnar sought out the Hansens' Dome-mates. Upon repeating what Chuck had told them, they got a flawless, trademarked Jaeger pilot double-facepalm from Devi and Susanti. "Seriously? Out of all people, his _dad_ isn't trying to buck him up?" Vic demanded.

To the brothers' shared dismay, the sisters were exasperated, but not surprised. "Seriously," sighed Suze. "Typical Herc. He mopes around the place because the kid's in a mood, but won't bloody _talk to him._ " She gave Devi a reluctant look. "As much as I usually prefer hands-off for them… shut up!" she exclaimed, even before her sister smirked.

Vic grinned. "Whereas you two don't need the drift. Will Herc get offended if we say something?"

"That's a funny thing about him: he really doesn't," Devi replied. "On the contrary. He's usually glad of advice about how to deal with Chuck. And this is the time for it. Chuck gets moody, but not like this."

Figuring out exactly how to broach it took some debating, but Devi, Indra, and Suze finally led the way. The five of them caught Herc in the locker room after making sure Chuck was out walking Max.

"We hear the kid's getting pep talks from every possible source," Gunnar said.

Herc chuckled, oblivious. "Yeah, I noticed. Guess it's not doing much good?"

"He said he hasn't had one from you," Indra observed.

"Nah, that's the last thing he needs."

Suze got down to business and slapped Herc upside the head. After a moment of panic, Vic and Gunnar worked out that Herc was even mellower about discussion of Chuck from third parties than they'd realized, so they decided to just roll with it. So Gunnar whapped him next, followed by Vic and Indra, and Herc was scrambling to his feet and trying to dodge the one from Devi. "Oi! Oi! Okay, I get it – hey! Ow! Come on, five of you?! This isn't bloody fair!"

He was laughing, though, and clearly thought it wasn't a big deal. "Sit your Aussie ass down and listen up," Gunnar ordered. Herc sat, looking torn between alarm and amusement, which at least meant he was receptive. "Out of all the annoying assholes in the world, YOU, drift partner, are the guy he's supposed to hear from, first and foremost, on every subject. Come on, man, you're a Mark-1 pilot, one of the last we've got! You know this stuff!"

He hadn't meant to come across quite so harsh, but seriously! The rumor mill had churned out plenty on the subject of the Hansens and how Chuck's entry into Academy had begun, and how their drift compatibility had come about, but now the only thing that mattered was that they were partners. Even apart from the fact that supporting your teenaged son – especially when he accomplished everything that Chuck had – was generally a good idea, Herc had been a jockey too long not to know what he owed his co-pilot.

The humor had left Herc, but to Gunnar's relief, he hadn't gone on the defensive. Herc Hansen, despite his reputation as a military man through-and-through, had a surprising humble streak, particularly concerning his child-rearing. He looked down, chagrinned, then up at the Hassans. "You really thought you needed back-up?"

"No, they were just a convenient addition," said Devi. She took the spot on the other side of Herc, nudging Vic until he made a space for her. "If it makes you feel any better, these two used to tag-team us candidates along with the Gages in 2016."

Herc snorted. "I know all about Bruce and Trev's humanitarian efforts. They and the Jessops - " he broke off. Gunnar winced and looked at his brother; they both saw the same dismay on the Hassans' faces. Before any of them got up the courage to try to work past it, Herc did. "And Yan-Jie and Fang," he finished quietly. "Biggest damn busybodies you'd ever meet. If they were here, I'd have had all six of them after me on top of you lot."

"We never really knew them," Devi sighed. "Apart from a few conference calls about team training."

Vic regarded the Hassans, and concluded, "You'd have liked them. They liked your style, in Vulcan." Yan-Jie and Fang had praised Class 2016-B's collective performance, even though it was 2017-A who produced the biggest batch of pilots. The Tunaris didn't tell Devi and Suze that. It was another thing that hurt too much to think about anymore, since the star team of that class was gone now too, in the worst way imaginable.

Maybe it was a mixed blessing that forcing Herc to endure awkward conversations with his kid was suddenly easier by comparison. Vic shut his mind to that depressing train of thought and focused on Herc. "Look, point is, you can't let this go on. Nobody knows your son like you do, and it matters that the words come from you, not us. If he keeps hearing it from everyone else, that's going to affect how you drift. You don't need us to tell you how bad that is."

Herc didn't seem completely convinced. "He seemed to take it okay from you all. He doesn't like to talk about stuff to me."

"And you're the model of communication?" Devi asked archly. "Boy comes by it naturally. He's going to want to act like you; you're the senior pilot, after all. You set the tone in the conn-pod. And you're his father. We both know that matters more to him than he lets on."

Herc had the grace to look sheepish. "I'll talk to Chuck," he promised. "And Dr. Dahari, if we have to. Neither of us like it much, but it's required, and out of all the Psychs, she's the least agonizing. And…" he smiled wryly. "I haven't forgotten he's about to turn eighteen, you know."

"We should have a party," said Devi. "A big one."

"He might not like it," Suze warned.

"When – hmm, August. We'll be on red alert then, so we may have to put it off. Still, we oughtta be able to come up with something," said Gunnar.

* * *

Herc didn't manage to "talk" with Chuck the way he knew the Tunaris and Hassans meant, but he did steer their next drift towards the rabbit of that conversation. The kid was embarrassed, but once it was clear that they'd be putting the handshake at risk if he tried to hide how depressed he felt, he just let it go.

_I'll get over it. I don't want a birthday party, really. Especially not if we're on alert._

_You may not be able to put them off entirely. Maybe let them at it. We could all use something to be in a good mood for._ His boy looked smaller in the drift these days. The drift was darker. Vic and Gunnar had been right; Herc had been drifting long enough to know what it meant. _So could you._

Chuck didn't want this train of thought to go on, but there was no stopping it while they were drifting. _I just want a deployment. Anything else is just a band-aid._

The drift surged with a dozen-plus faces and voices: Devi and Suze, the Tunaris, Indra, Tendo, Kyrra and Marian, other crew.

_"_ _Kid, it'll happen…"_

_"…_ _just gotta be patient."_

_" –_ _it'll come, just wait - "_

_"…_ _you will…"_

_"_ _You'll get one…"_

_They're all right, you know. You will._

_Yeah, I know._

* * *

_August 11, 2021…_

The next movement in the Breach came three days before Chuck's birthday… and the kaiju ran east. "Category IV, ladies and germs, heading straight for the Central American zones. That's a stand-down for Sydney," Tendo announced. "Time for our Western brethren to form up their triple teams."

"Are we not even going out as a contingency to the islands?" Chuck asked. His tone was more weary than excited about the possibility.

"Marshal's insisted China cover them, since we had the biggest deployment bill in June," Herc told him. "He thought their sub network dropped the ball." He didn't mention that Ketteridge was fretting about the latest round of politicians' digs at Sydney: that Striker cost a fortune everytime he was deployed, _"and without even meeting a kaiju!_ " It would only depress the kid more.

The kaiju veered sharply while still well off the Galapagos, and Lima and Panama City deployed the Western Hemisphere's B-team to make the intercept. Once K-Watch pinpointed his target as Chile, they ran Diablo Intercept out to join the trio, splitting them into two pairs off Valaparaiso, the coastal city outside Santiago.

" _Welcome back, huevón culiado!_ " Diablo's successor pilots shouted, unleashing the Devil's Lash to snare Girtabliu in deeper water. In Sydney, a lot of Team Vulcan and the American transplants to Team Striker were roaring their appreciation. _"This is for Ben and Felipe!_ "

"Can't keep a good Jaeger down," Alison Begay growled, a savage grin on her face as Amazon Delta's explosives blasted one of Girtabliu's legs out from under him.

Herc noticed Tendo sitting close to Indra Hassan, and that Devi and Suze were looking at them. "And that's for Whiskey Gamma," Tendo murmured. "And Concepción."

Puma Real moved in to slash open the kaiju's torso while he was still trying to claw Diablo's whip from around his neck. "Did they reconfigure him much after Hardship?" Chuck asked one of the engineers.

"A bit. He's got the two lashes now, one in each arm, and an emergency detach in case he needs to get free in a hurry. The problem with Hardship wasn't so much a technical thing with the Jaeger. They did add a K-Stunner launcher in his midsection, though he can only shoot off five, single-file."

"My babies," Alison crooned, getting a laugh from the Hassans. "There we go!" Diablo launched two of them into Girtabliu's neck, keeping him disoriented and unable to untangle himself from the Devil's Lash as Solar Prophet moved in.

" _Amazon and Puma, get clear! Diablo, detach on our signal!_ "

"Oh, baby, I love the flaretorch, though," Tendo sighed. Amazon and Puma ceased their dismemberment and got out of Solar Prophet's way, and everyone cheered as the Peruvian Jaeger opened up its massive flamethrower onto the staggering, lacerated kaiju, starting from a distance, then moving in to incinerate the bastard. "Bravo! I hope Ben and Felipe are watching."

Before long, the news outlets were all broadcasting scenes from around Chile, cheering crowds stampeding through the streets, leaping to their feet in cafes and bars, waving Chilean flags and Diablo Intercept banners. _"Nuestro diablo es mejor!_ " someone bellowed from a cliff at Girtabliu's carcass, waving a banner at the Jaegers.

All the Spanish-speaking crew burst into laughter. "What was that?" Herc demanded.

"'Our devil is better,'" Tina Medina told him, smirking at CNN's headline: **_The Chilean Devil Rides Again!_**

Herc saw a lot of the crew exchanging worried looks as Chuck slipped away, and Dr. Dahari having a few quick words with the Hassans and some of the others. _No party. He's not up for it. What the hell do we do now?_

Their psych team leader had the answer. "It's time you took charge here, Ranger. The sim lab will be clear tomorrow, and your drift will not be recorded. I've instructed all of your analysts to take the day off. Make the most of it."

* * *

_August 14, 2021…_

Take charge. Right. So the morning of his son's eighteenth birthday, Herc let the kid sleep through drills. A few months before, Chuck would have been out of bed like a shot and never allow himself to miss it. He was sleeping more lately, and Herc had been through enough psych evaluations to know that wasn't a good sign.

For a moment, doubt crept into Herc's mind: was he really doing a good thing by making Chuck face his fear and shame? Herc didn't care about the accusations from some members of the public that he was a bad father for making his son pilot with him, but seeing Chuck lie there in the bunk made Herc remember another time when the worst thing Chuck had to fear was getting hurt on the playground at school. Even then, Herc remembered, Chuck had been determined to be as brave as his father.

_I'm going to be as brave as you,_ the sound of eight-year-old Chuck's voice echoed in Herc's mind.

These days, even without the drift, Herc could tell that the boy didn't know what to think. Bravery wasn't so clear cut anymore.

Taking a deep breath, Herc pulled back the covers of Chuck's bed, startling him awake.

"What?" Chuck demanded. It took a second for him to realize no alarm was sounding. "Aw, what do you want? We're not on duty; I want to sleep in. Thought I told you that." The kid's voice was tinged with sleep and frustration.

Masking his own anxiety behind a veneer of gruffness, Herc said, "You've got a choice: we start working through this or I throw you to the wolves and let the Hassans throw you a party."

Chuck stiffened, then mumbled, "What if what I want for my birthday's to be left alone?"

"Not an option, Ranger." Chuck flinched at the address. Herc hadn't meant it to mock him. _If you weren't a Ranger, I could let you be, let you work through what's bothering you on your own. But we don't have that luxury. This is what you wanted, remember?_ "Come on, on your feet. The Kwoon and the sim lab are clear today, no Psychs. That's your birthday present."

Chuck wasn't fool enough to slack off on his drilling no matter how low he felt, though he was definitely lackluster at sparring. After just a few rounds, they both decided just to get the hard part done with and headed for the sim lab.

The drift space was so damned dark; it felt worse than stumbling around in a closet with no light switch in sight.

_What if I've really blown it?_

_What if I'm really not good enough?_

_Doubtlonelydarkcold_ swept them under like a frigid flood, spinning them around and around.

"Warning: Both hemispheres out of alignment."

_"_ _Once in your bloody lifetime, can you tell your damn kid it'll be all right?!_ "

They both flinched away from the memory of Scott's voice, wishing for a time when words like that had been Scott's job, hating themselves for missing it. Once that had been Angela's job, making Chuck feel better. Then Scott had done it whenever he could, and worse was knowing that was one job he'd taken seriously.

_Fuck him, it doesn't matter who he cared about, it doesn't change what he did!_ It wasn't clear whether that was Herc's thought or Chuck's, but they crashed back into each other in the drift space, and the blue world brightened around them with something like defiance.

Chuck wanted to be better, to measure up, to prove something – and he was ready to work for it. He'd already proven so much, Herc wanted to tell him. So many people had told him that, why'd it bloody stick in Herc's throat?

At least they had the drift. Side-by-side in the simulator, but face-to-face in the drift space, Herc looked at his boy, eighteen years old, and his boy looked back at him. _You'll make it. It'll happen. You're ready._ He wasn't lying. Out of all the things with Chuck he'd managed to fuck up, he didn't lie to him. And in the drift, he couldn't lie, and Chuck knew that.

The drift echoed with their breaths and brightened with Herc's certainty, and the thoughts of everyone who was still here, still pulling for Chuck's success and entirely certain of what he was capable of. Gradually, they came back into alignment and worked their way through cognitive tests until Chuck finally said out loud, "Okay, let's run a combat." The drift bubbled with wry amusement. "I guess it's too early for Girtabliu to be in the scenario list yet."

_Better. Much better_ , Herc thought, and felt his son's reluctant acknowledgement that he'd been wallowing in doubt. "Probably. Still, can't hurt to take a big one on. Select random opponent, Category IV," Herc ordered.

"Preparing simulation."

Adrenaline simmered through the drift, and as they focused, one thought did tug at Herc's consciousness. Today was the first time he'd really thought about Scott in… quite awhile.

He would never have imagined it possible, but even in the conn-pod… he didn't miss his brother anymore.

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** _ _Herc and Chuck keep working their way out of Chuck's depression until the_ _Jaeger Program's youngest pilot finally gets the deployment he's been waiting for and puts all his training to the test in_ _**Chapter Thirty-Four: Ceramander!** _
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Marshal Blake Ketteridge: Commanding Officer of Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force.
> 
> Greg Oliver: Herc's comrade and fellow chopper pilot from before K-Day, now a support pilot for Lucky Seven. Like Herc, he joined the Jaeger Program in the wake of Scissure. He lost his parents and his oldest daughter, Karina, in the attack. His son, Danny, was accepted into the Jaeger Academy after four tries despite lower academic scores than Chuck, and is now pilot of Tacit Ronin.
> 
> Daniel (Danny) Oliver: Age 17, son of support chopper pilot Greg Oliver, survived Scissure along with his little sister, Emma. He and Chuck clashed as teens in the Shatterdome but resolved their differences (and engaged in some sexual experimentation) at the Jaeger Academy, where Danny achieved drift compatibility with a partner and won the assignment to Tacit Ronin.
> 
> Evelyn (Evie) Nakano: Age 18, British-Japanese, another graduate of Class 2020-A. Despite disliking Chuck, she tested as potentially compatible with both him and Herc. She is drift compatible with Danny Oliver, and they have been assigned as successor pilots of Tacit Ronin.


	34. Ceramander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herc and Chuck keep working their way out of Chuck's depression until the Jaeger Program's youngest pilot finally gets the deployment he's been waiting for and puts all his training to the test.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** Many thanks to you all for the wonderful reviews, and also for your patience as I've had to slow down updates again. Special thanks also to Raine Wynd for her continued beta reading assistance!_

**Chapter Thirty-Four: Ceramander**

_Sydney Shatterdome…  
August 14, 2021…_

After three simulations – all with good scores – and end-of-the-day drills on their own, the ghost drift told Herc that his boy was feeling more himself. Relieved, he let Chuck escape back to quarters without having to endure any singing or gifts in the mess hall, but the dinner tray Herc brought back for him did include a brownie. It wasn't much, but it satisfied the part of Herc that felt obligated to carry on some kind of parental tradition. "Happy birthday, kid."

"Thanks." Warmth washed back through the ghost drift until Chuck fell asleep, worn out, but satisfied from a hard day's work after the weight that he'd carried around for weeks. Herc supposed it was probably just relief, not warmth towards his old man. After all, a decent father would've thought of this a long time ago.

He took Max out for a walk and was joined by Devi. "How'd it go?"

"I think he'll be okay. He pulled himself together in the simulator." Herc didn't mean to sound critical of the kid, just neutral rather than a worried parent, but Devi frowned at him.

"He doesn't have that far to 'pull himself.' He's kept it together and been nothing but gracious to Danny and Evie, in case you haven't noticed."

"I have noticed," Herc insisted, raising his hands. He sighed and looked out across the darkened harbor. The Wall of Life was outlined in lights while the construction crews kept on working. At this hour of the night, it was downright picturesque. "I didn't mean to say he's acted up. He hasn't. But Rangers can't even have low moods like normal people. He knows that. He's the one wanted to be a Ranger before he was even eighteen."

"And I can't imagine he doesn't know _that_ part either," Devi retorted.

Herc dropped his face into his hand. How was it that he managed to bungle even a simple conversation about his son? "I know. I know, no matter how hard things are on the kid, I make it worse."

Max, who'd pulled his leash free to go sniffing along the edges of the quiet tarmac, came trotting back, circling Herc's feet and looking up at him. Herc knelt and scratched the dog's head. He smiled when Devi scratched his own, creating three layers of petting.

"You know, back before we could drift and know everything going on in each other's head, I used to worry that Suze wasn't paying enough attention to this or that, wasn't taking her exams seriously enough when we were in school. She had to get in my face to get me to stop, to get through my head that she bloody _knew_ the implications of her own life choices, thank you very little, and she didn't need me reminding her all the terrible things that might happen if she dropped the ball." Herc grinned. He could well imagine how loud Susanti would be getting _that_ message across. "I didn't...didn't quite get it for awhile. After all, I was just trying to help. It was Indra who set me straight. Everyone's got enough teachers, supervisors, complete bloody strangers leaning over their shoulder broadcasting doom and gloom. Maybe family's job should be the opposite: believe in them. Let them know we do."

_"Once in your bloody lifetime can you tell your damn kid it'll be all right?_ "

Max's cold nose nudged Herc's hand. Devi knelt next to him, sensing his sudden tension. He let out his breath and admitted, "He - my - of all people, Scott used to say that."

She patted Herc's shoulder and started rubbing Max's belly with her free hand. "Well, if nothing else, that's one thing Scott got right. If that's why you're not sure, then I'll say it: you're Chuck's dad, so you should support him. Being co-pilots now doesn't change that; it makes it more true than ever. It means he needs you more than ever. It's the same with Suze and me, every other family who're Rangers. The job just makes it more important."

It was one a.m. when Herc got back to quarters. Chuck was sound asleep in the lower bunk, but he shifted instinctively as Max hopped up to snuggle against him. Herc leaned against the bunk railing and studied him in the dim light.

He should just go to bed. If Chuck caught him doing this in the drift, they'd both be embarrassed.

But this was his son. His boy was eighteen, and the best Herc had come up with for a present was a day of being wrung dry in the Kwoon and the simulator to try and work him out of depression. _"You're Chuck's dad. You should support him. Being co-pilots doesn't change that; it makes it more true than ever,"_ Devi'd said.

_So you haven't had a fight yet. You're eighteen and a Ranger, made it through training in spite of everyone being against it. Even me. Don't you know what you're capable of yet?_

Wasn't saying it in the drift enough? Herc knew what Devi would say to that. It was the same thing Angela would say, and she'd been gone before Caitlin even dreamed up the drift.

Herc reached out and gave the snoring Max a little rub behind the ears. If his hand ghosted over Chuck's hair in the process, well, that was just a slip. Then he went to bed.

* * *

_October 9, 2021..._

Chuck made himself focus in the weeks after Girtabliu, if only so the crew would quit looking like they felt sorry for him, and so Dr. Dahari and the Psychs would quit side-eyeing him. Some days and weeks were still low, feeling like he was swimming through a drift made out of cement just to get through drills, but he made himself keep moving.

His old man must have caught on to the reasons Chuck sometimes went extra rounds at drills or did extra runs outside or wanted to do extra simulations, but he was considerate enough not to say.

Devi and Suze were nice enough to not push the issue of a birthday party, but they did inform him, "Just so you know, that means that when you do get your first kill stamp - and you will - we're inviting every single Ranger in service and burning down the continent of Australia."

Chuck had to grin. "Okay. Deal."

"There will be karaoke," Tendo added.

Herc laughed out loud at Chuck's horrified expression, but backed the others. "I happen to know this lot throws a great party. Better take that rain check."

On October 9, 2021, a Category III appeared. "That thing reminds me of Keunsango!" someone exclaimed as they all watched the kaiju surfacing almost directly above the Breach.

"He's moving a lot slower," Tendo mused. He had one headphone in his ear listening to a call from a friend of his in K-Watch. "Current speed less than forty miles per hour. He may pick it up once he gets a trail. K-Science thinks he's got the capability for moving fast. And we've got Typhoon Nuri and Typhoon Phanfone churning up the Philippines and East China Sea. He's not gonna come this way."

Chuck sighed, but this time, his heart hadn't even sped up. _Maybe I'm just getting used to disappointment._ Kyrra patted his shoulder, and he managed not to pull away.

"Codename Ceramander, Category III. Water displacement and armor below median - whoa, toxicity rating way the hell above median. Six limbs, extremely long tail... when this guy gets up to speed, he's going to have some moves," Tendo warned.

_"Preliminary forecast is due south, ladies and gentlemen,_ " announced someone on the K-Watch frequency. _"The current disruptions from the typhoons have steered the Japanese runoff streams into the North Pacific. We anticipate an eventual turn back to the northeast. This is an extreme red alert for the Mariana Islands, Guam, Micronesia, and Polynesia."_

"Sir, Guam and Saipan are requesting a Jaeger deployment," said one of the Sydney K-Watch reps.

"Loudly," added Tendo. He made a face at something that came through his headphones. "They're sick of getting stepped on by kaiju on the way to the major population centers with no help from the Jaegers."

Kyrra threw up her hands. "I don't bloody blame them, but the kaiju tend to be on them faster than even the closest Jaegers! We're not supersonic!"

Ketteridge scowled at the big map. "I'll release one, but until the trajectory is entirely away from us, I want one in reserve." He caught the way everyone in the war room looked at him, and finished snidely, "Decide amongst yourselves if you think you can manage it _fairly._ "

Devi and Suze looked at each other, then Devi poked Chuck. "Oi. You." She held her fist over her other palm.

"Uh..." Chuck hesitated, and Herc rolled his eyes and assumed the rock-paper-scissors position.

"Go!"

Three beats... and Herc had rock and Devi had scissors. "Two out of three?" Suze pouted, but Striker's crew roared her down, and she and Devi surrendered, laughing.

"Fine," said Ketteridge. "Tell Nagasaki we're deploying Striker Eureka, but I don't want the jumphawks passing through those typhoons."

"Understood, sir," said Greg Oliver, leaning over another hologram of air traffic to work out flight plans with the other chopper pilots.

"Marshal, Nova Hyperion and Echo Saber are gonna try to beat the bogey to Guam," said Tendo. "Shaolin Rogue and Katana Eagle will set up base in Pohnpei in Micronesia. Butterfly Sword is meeting up with Eden Assassin on Kosrae Island. And... Hawaii's asking for Coyote Tango. We'll have plenty of clearance around the turbulence if we meet up with them in Honolulu. Hickam Field Air Base is mobilizing; they'll have a temporary base fully operational within six hours."

"Done," said Ketteridge.

Chuck was still processing it as Devi and Suze were already squeezing his shoulders. "Bring us back a lei, kid," Devi ordered. He blinked, and she grinned, giving him a little shake as she dropped her voice. "Oi! You're deploying, love!"

_Really? You think we really will this time?_ He cast a quick gaze past her to the map, gauging the distance between the Hawaiian Islands and the bogey blip still hovering right over the Breach.

"Hawaii's nervous about this one," Kyrra remarked, sidling up to them. "He may take his time in Micronesia and Polynesia, but unless we can make an intercept in the shallows, he'll be hard to catch until he runs at a bigger land mass."

"Too bad Diablo's not done with repairs from the last fight. Micronesia would love to have him and Yankee Star back," said Hien Nguyen.

"Yankee is going out with Rio Sentry to Kiribati. That's five teams in the islands from Guam to Micronesia to Hawaii, and almost all our distance shooters." Tendo looked up at the video being streamed live from a fleet of spotters. Ceramander had broken with the usual kaiju habits of swimming deep underwater, and seemed to be almost lazily cruising along on the surface. "I think we're all gonna be chilling out in tropical paradise for awhile before this guy decides where he's heading."

"Even so, let's not get caught flat-footed again," said Herc. He gave each Hassan a clap on the shoulder and waited for them all to embrace Chuck. "Ready?"

"You are ready," Suze muttered in Chuck's ear. "This one or the next comes your way, remember your training. You've got everything you need to take the bastard down."

"I will," Chuck promised. He cast a quick look back at them from the doorway, hoping he looked more confident than he felt as he followed his father and the rest of Team Striker out of the war room. He inadvertently caught the Marshal's eye, but he couldn't tell from Ketteridge's expression what the C.O. was thinking.

* * *

_Honolulu, Hawaii...  
October 11, 2021…_

Even if Chuck's adrenaline levels had gone up over deploying, they had plenty of time to slow down again. There wasn't much urgency on the long flight to Hawaii, even with Striker below them suspended from the jumphawks. Ceramander got nicknamed Cerameander as the Jaegers scrambled out into position - and all found themselves waiting around for the kaiju to decide where he wanted to go.

"I swear to God, he's doing concentric circles out from the Breach. It's driving K-Watch nuts," Tendo told Team Striker as they came out of the choppers on Hickam-Pearl Harbor airfield. "Now he's going south-southwest back towards the Breach, but it looks like he's turning around again."

Vic and Gunnar arrived not long after, and the four pilots went running around the perimeter of the base. Why work out in the gym when the temporary headquarters was in Hawaii?

There were people gathered near the base perimeter bunkers, but the order hadn't gone out for Hawaiians to take shelter yet, so many were just hanging around by cars and on rooftops, watching the Jaegers being prepped for deployment and ogling the pilots with long-range cameras.

"Too bad we're not on the same island as K-Watch Headquarters," said Vic, stretching after a few rounds of Bushido drills. "They're the ones actually getting something to do right now."

"They're the ones busy," Herc pointed out.

The wait in Hawaii was almost leisurely. Ceramander was in no hurry to go anywhere. "That's an islander kaiju if I ever saw one," one of the local MPs insisted. "He'll pick us eventually."

Yankee Star and Diablo Intercept tried their baiting game in Micronesia that had drawn in Grindylow four years before: dropping depth charges to lure the kaiju towards them. Despite being a good deal bigger, Ceramander checked them out, and then cruised back into open water without presenting a target.

_"Oh, come on! Get in here!_ " Yankee Star's Tanisha Davis roared in frustration. Even their longest-range missile came up short.

"He's fucking with us on purpose, I swear to God," said Tendo.

"How many ships has he taken out?" Chuck asked.

"Compared to most island swimmers? Not many, because he's moving so slow that almost everybody's had time to get out of his way." Tendo held out his tablet, showing the latest projection of the kaiju's trajectory. Chuck's heart did start to speed up then: K-Watch was predicting a sharp turn northeast - towards Hawaii. "Some of the guys in K-Science are convinced he's trying to lull us. He keeps looking at the spotters."

Chuck wasn't sure what he thought about that. Herc leaned around him to consider the video clips of the kaiju, who did indeed seem to be making eye contact with the cameras on the choppers tailing him, taking his bearings every few miles. "That's bloody creepy." He tapped the display back to the map. "About six hundred miles out, but there aren't many potential detours left between him and us. Let's run pre-dep checks in case he picks up the pace."

It was a _very_ good call. The four pilots were still in LOCCENT watching the technicians report in when the alarms went off:

" _Attention all personnel: Bogey's water speed just tripled. ETA seven hours to Oahu."_

_"Extreme red alert. Hawaiian Islands, extreme red alert. Striker Eureka, Coyote Tango, prepare for deployment."_

Chuck and Herc were still staring at the screens when Chuck's phone buzzed. He looked down and saw that it was a text from Devi: _We're staying in the Solomons. You've got this. Be safe._

The text made Chuck conscious of the riot of emotions storming through him. Not wanting to reveal how much the text made him feel, Chuck quickly shut off his phone, but he suspected he wasn't fooling his father.

The image on the screens as they suited up was very different from the one they'd been watching for the past few days. Those who had predicted this kaiju had another personality waiting to show were right: Ceramander was slicing through the water propelled by the movement of his long tail.

"Bastard just broke Keunsango's record. He's faster than a marlin, _and_ he jumps," Tendo informed them, his voice professional but edged with growing tension. "Full evacuation protocol is under way."

Chuck tried not to look at his old man as they suited up, wondering if this time would be different. _Just think about training, think about pre-dep checklists, don't go into the drift distracted._ Something kept tugging his gaze to his right, though, and every time he stole a glance, he managed to meet his father's eyes.

Even without an engagement (until now) two years of drift training and simulations meant that a ghost drift whispered between them, vibrating with their shared tension. Chuck consoled himself with the awareness that Herc was trying just as hard (and failing just as entirely) to keep his own eyes on the ball.

_Not my son - can't think like that - just co-pilot. We're ready, we're trained, we know our jobs, he knows his work, don't think about - my son..._

"Good luck, mates," said one of the drivesuit techs as Herc and Chuck headed for the choppers. So far from a Shatterdome, they'd be deposited onto Striker's shoulders and enter through the hatches, since the conn-pod was already attached.

Chuck was vaguely surprised to find himself ferried over by Vibby Alpha, under Greg Oliver's command. He'd have thought Herc and Greg would stick together, but Tina Medina's chopper was coming down onto the helipad for Herc.

Greg had a good poker face, but as they maneuvered cautiously to Striker's left side, he looked at Chuck in the rear-view and nodded. "You're ready for this, lad. You're one of the best ever trained."

A flicker of amusement flashed through the haze of Chuck's anxiety, and he felt himself grin. "'One of the best,' hey?" Greg smiled. They both knew the qualifier, and for once, Chuck didn't feel any resentment about it. _He's Danny's old man, after all. Even if Ronin never gets another kaiju, Greg'll still think Dan's the best._

"Look after your dad out there," Greg's co-pilot, Marijani ordered as Chuck got ready to climb out. "Everyone's proud of you, kid."

That startled Chuck, but he couldn't think what to say in response, so he said nothing as he hopped from the helicopter onto Striker's shoulder.

The conn-pod crew was waiting for them as they came down from the hatches. "Status on the bogey?" Herc asked.

"Still moving straight and fast for Oahu. K-Watch is predicting Honolulu, so you won't have far to travel. ETA three hours, forty minutes."

As the crews finished prepping the pod and checking the rigs and airlocks, Chuck gazed at the HUD in front of them. Coyote Tango was just visible at the far end of the tarmac, surrounded by her own fleet of support choppers and a swarm of ground crews. "Vic, Gunnar, you two up and moving?" Herc asked, tapping the comm.

_"Prep crews are locking us down. Mission command is Marshal Ramirez out of Los Angeles._ Chuck sensed rather than saw Herc's smug smile at that. It had to burn Marshal Ketteridge up that the first time Striker Eureka deployed, _he_ wouldn't be the one giving the orders.

Once Striker's conn-pod was sealed and all the prep crews had lifted off, it was very quiet inside. Just the soft beeps and blips from the HUD showing the kaiju's signature and the position of the surrounding vehicles and their sister Jaeger, and the chatter on the radio. Chuck couldn't think of much to say to Herc.

As the jumphawks connected the lift lines, the comm buzzed with a signal from command. _"Rangers, this is Marshal Ana Ramirez, Los Angeles Shatterdome. We're dropping you both at the miracle mile of Mamala Bay."_

_"Acknowledged, Marshal,_ " answered Vic. " _It's not a long walk._ "

_"I'm aware of that, but unless the kaiju increases speed even more, it's at least three hours to intercept, and I'd rather not waste drift time on the wait."_

"Works for us," said Chuck. As the kaiju got bigger and engagements lasted longer, the medics worried about destabilization of the neural handshakes. Chuck had read the reports on the condition of the Beckets after Clawhook and the Gages after Hardship. Nobody wanted to experience that firsthand - not to mention that if it ever happened while a kaiju was alive and kicking, the pilots might well end up dead.

On that note, "Have we got a backup team coming in?" asked Herc.

_"Matador Fury and Cherno Alpha,_ " LOCCENT confirmed. _"They should be touching down in Hilo just as you're making contact, ready to deploy within two hours._ "

Watching that long, ugly body slicing through the water faster than any kaiju had ever moved, Chuck's heart and mind were starting to race. Something wasn't right. They weren't in a good position. Striker and Coyote were exposed, waiting as if they expected Ceramander to stop long enough for them to swing at him. "We need to move," he muttered.

_What?_ Herc frowned, but caught the vision in Chuck's mind: that thing slamming into either Jaeger at this speed would cause incredible damage. _Shit._

Chuck's hand raced across the console, calculating the amount of force the Jaegers' superstructures could take. All these hours feeling bored and impatient, now it felt like they didn't have enough time. "Coyote, we need to slow him down before he hits. He's got enough momentum behind him to tear your reactor off or split Striker in two."

There was a brief pause as the Tunaris crunched their own numbers, then a snarled curse came over the comm. " _You're right. Either we need to slow him down from a distance or start off evasive ourselves. Shit, K-Science thought this bastard had something up his sleeve."_

"Too bad there's not one of those walls handy. He'd go right through it." Herc glared over their shoulder at the skyline of Honolulu. "Letting him get past us isn't an option."

Chuck shrunk the real-time monitors and brought up a hologram of the kaiju's body. Bloody lucky the thing had been slithering along the surface for so long. Most kaiju didn't give them such a long look before heading for a target. He forced the relief he felt at having that much information to the back of his mind as he tried to calculate what they could do next, the pressure of Herc's mind doing the same adding weight to Chuck's sense of urgency. "LOCCENT, time to intercept?"

" _One hour, eleven minutes, Striker_."

"Tell K-Science, we need their fastest anatomy lesson," said Herc. "We need to cut this thing off before he hits the harbor. Where are the muscle connections or the gills, what's driving this guy?"

It was long, painful minutes before a rather squeaky voice joined the conversation. " _Striker Eureka, this is K-Science. You need to aim for the back,_ not _the stomach if you want to cut off his ability to gain speed. The musculature structure is based on the spine, and it runs along his back. Back of the head or neck is your target._ "

_"_ _Jesus, short of getting the Jumphawks to lift us above him, how the hell are we supposed to pull that off?_ " demanded Vic Tunari.

"We've done rapid drops before, maybe not a bad idea," Herc muttered. He brought up the sea floor on the HUD. "I say we push out our miracle mile a bit further, as far from shore as we can get it."

" _You haven't got rockets in full submersion, Herc,_ " warned Tendo from LOCCENT.

"Believe us, we know. All right – drop team, get in here. We need to move further out." Technically, Coyote had mission command, but Chuck noticed that neither Tunari argued with Herc – and if they'd disagreed, they probably would have said so.

" _We've got energy caster at depth, but it won't hold up over distance,"_ said Gunnar. " _Shit, this is gonna be tight. LOCCENT, I hate to say this, but we need conventional weapons support to break this guy's momentum._ "

" _Understood, Coyote. Pearl Harbor reports they have choppers currently airborne with depth charges available, also dive bomb fighters. Submarine missile launch available in ten minutes."_

" _No big detonations,"_ Gunnar answered at once. " _We can't afford to lose track of the bogey. We just need to get him to slow down. Have we got bunker buster torpedos available?_ "

The comms buzzed as someone else came onto the frequency. _"Confirmed, Coyote Tango,"_ said an accented voice. Russian, Chuck and Herc thought. _"Thirty minutes to delivery. Four small-yield penetrators._ "

_"_ _Okay, Jumphawks, put us down at the twenty-mile mark,"_ said Vic. " _I want you to hold off on releasing Striker Eureka until the last possible second. Guys, you think you can nail this guy from above?_ "

Herc smiled grimly. _Out of all the stunts we've tried in the simulator, of course, we end up doing something completely different._ Neither of them said it out loud.

Chuck answered, "Watch us."

The jumphawks dropped Coyote in the last mile of shallow reef off Honolulu, where the undersea slope got very deep very fast. Just above and behind them, Striker's fleet hovered with them above the water. In the back of Chuck and Herc's minds was the awareness that if this didn't work, they'd almost certainly take the choppers and all hands down with them. But they couldn't think about that now.

" _Five minutes to torpedo impact. All fish on target. Bogey is making one hundred thirty kilometers per hour._ "

They could see the wake trail and mid-morning sunlight glinting off a dark green-gray surface that was no ship, going faster than any ship or earthly animal could move.

"Steady as she goes, drop team," said Herc. "Visual contact. Preparing to deploy K-stunners."

Time and past and future were gone, hope and doubt compressed into only the faintest background noise. The only presence left was that of Herc and Chuck and Striker. Below and behind them, Coyote and Vic and Gunnar. In front of them, Ceramander's long, snake-like body twisting on the surface, the tiny, miniscule wake trails of four little torpedoes coming at him from the side, aiming for where he was calculated to be in five minutes. If they missed, Chuck and Herc would have one last chance to slow the monster down before it plowed into Coyote with enough force to tear the Mark-1 Jaeger apart. Or if it saw them and went for them in the air, they'd have absolutely no chance of maneuvering out of the way.

"Drop team, release on our signal," ordered Chuck.

"Arming K-Stunners," said Herc. "Target locked."

The kaiju twisted and turned across the water, serpentine. And then - "Shit!" Herc exploded as the kaiju rocketed out of the water, unmistakably dodging the incoming torpedoes.

Four tiny wake trails zipped right under him. _"No impacts, negative on all four fish!_ "

"He'll be under us in another second, we've gotta fire!" Chuck yelled. Ceramander was so damned skinny.

"Wait...wait..." Herc's hand hovered over the trigger, measuring the kaiju's movements, eyes on its reptilian head... "Firing!"

Chuck held onto the comm switch and _felt_ six missiles leave the housing in Striker's chest, rocking them dangerously in their moorings to the choppers. "Drop team, release!"

Then his stomach dropped with Striker, and they were falling straight down. It reminded Chuck of the first time he ever jumped off a six-foot wall, except this was from far higher up. Hitting the water would be like hitting glass, but Striker was built for that kind of impact. Chuck found himself bracing anyway before the words in his head registered.

_Don't – we need to cut –_ he heard Herc in the Drift.

_"Striker, six minutes to impact with Coyote!_ "

_"Missiles away!_ "

But the kaiju hadn't seen the missiles coming, and three of them struck home, burrowing into the creature's flesh, and as Striker fell, their quarry's roar of pain vibrated through their frame. Ceramander came writhing into the air, kaiju blue spraying. Curses rang out on the radio lines as the lift choppers and spotters scrambled for altitude to get out of its way.

Chuck was already deploying his left-hand sling blade, because they were going to -

\- _BANG!_ Their teeth rattled and they went crashing along the kaiju's trunk as he caught them from the side, but Herc's blade struck home and kept them from somersaulting. They hit the water along with Ceramander, practically riding him down, and amid screaming alarms and red lights and the dizzy, head-over-heels view of waves and an undulating gray-green body, Chuck caught a glimpse of foam spraying as Coyote Tango blasted forward under the power of her rockets.

Ceramander was still half-out of the water in the throes of pain and fury, but his attention was on Striker. Chuck and Herc reeled as one of the kaiju's flipper-limbs – with claws, ( _fuck, we should've expected that,_ was Herc's thought in the Drift) – slapped at them to knock them away.

_"Striker, he's comin' at you!"_

Out of the corner of Striker's eye, Herc and Chuck could see the jaws opening wide, exposing two rows of massive teeth and the snakelike fangs as if the kaiju planned to swallow them whole. They ripped Striker's blades free and threw themselves sidelong off the bucking monster, putting its own trunk between them and its teeth.

Too deep out here. They'd sink. Chuck didn't have time to panic; in this moment, his mind was his father's and his father's mind was his and they were Striker Eureka, laser-focused on the need to win. They seized one of the flailing limbs and were nearly hurled into the air. Chuck managed to get his arm up to slash his blade at the kaiju's face as it came in for another attempt at biting.

_"Arming energy caster - Striker, get clear!_ "

They let go and sank. The water sizzled as two of Coyote's energy bolts flashed above them, but they were close enough for a hit. Sure enough, Ceramander screeched and recoiled again.

If he went much deeper, they'd have trouble staying with him. "Firing rockets!" They propelled themselves straight up through the water and jammed their blades into the softer underbelly.

_You're not getting away, you bastard._ The kaiju screeched again and lunged for Coyote. "Bring him to the shallows!" Herc bellowed.

_"Copy!_ " Chuck only had a quick glance of the larger Jaeger shifting to the side to grab one of the front limbs and drag Ceramander along. Vic and Gunnar were smart enough not to just try to haul a thousand-feet-long reptile/amphibian/whatever it was straight along. Rather, they predicted the direction he'd try to fight back against their pull, and the kaiju's long body slithered sideways, moving at an angle towards the shallower water as it fought.

_Perfect._ Using their sling blades like climbing pickaxes, Chuck and Herc hauled themselves up the narrow midsection, sinking their handholds deep into the sinewy body. A blow from the long, whiplash tail knocked them off but tore a very satisfying gash in Ceramander's side in the process. Chuck grunted in pain as he wound up holding all of Striker's weight on one arm so they didn't go flying off into the water or rocks.

It became a circle, almost like a dance. Coyote went at Ceramander's head and pummeled him with mortars and energy bolts. Striker worked his way up the kaiju's torso, trying to hack their way into his spinal column. Ceramander alternated between snake-strikes at one Jaeger, then the other, but the movement had them all going sideways, strike by strike into shallower and shallower water.

The Jaegers could maneuver better here, only up to their waists, but Chuck was very conscious of the skyline getting closer and closer. If they lost their quarry now, he might run out to see and escape - or worse, far worse, inshore onto the unprotected Honolulu hotels and homes.

_Gotta hang onto him._

One of the Tunaris roared as they sent an energy bolt straight into Ceramander's mouth, wreaking incredible damage as the monster reared away, screeching and convulsing, but it wasn't a death blow. Chuck caught a view of its lower jaw now blackened and deformed, one of its primary fangs blown away - it seemed to be having trouble closing its mouth now.

"Think we can put a K-stunner down his throat?" he grunted at Herc.

_I'm game to try._ "Coyote, get his head down here! Tell him to open wide!"

It was easier said than done. They hauled themselves along his length towards his upper neck, but that gave the kaiju more leverage to lash his tail at them, shaking and swinging them like tethered balls in every direction. Pain lanced through Chuck's body from all the punishment, but structural integrity was holding, and most of the systems were okay.

_"Watch the claws!_ " Ceramander wasn't going to make it easy for them both to get a grip on his head.

_"Striker, Coyote, neural handshake complete for Cherno and Matador. Do you need backup?_ "

"Not yet," Chuck answered without thinking. "Drop them at the one-mile mark off Waikiki, in case he gets around us!"

_"Copy that, Striker_ ," said a woman's accented voice. " _We'll hold behind you._ "

It didn't occur to Chuck until much, much later that he wasn't supposed to have been the one making that call - but nobody questioned it, not even his old man in the drift. Herc didn't worry about protocols at a moment like this; if it got the job done, anybody who stepped up could speak up, and Herc agreed with Chuck's point.

They were at seven hours, no major hits to either Jaeger, and still at least five hours of handshake left for each team. Adding Cherno's massive weight to pile onto Ceramander or some of Matador Fury's long spears would be nice, but it wasn't necessary now. Better to keep the fresh pair in reserve.

They had cause to be relieved about that more than once as Ceramander's throes grew wilder, and the water got shallower. At one point, with both Striker and Coyote hanging off his upper torso, hacking away at his upper limbs, the wily kaiju flipped his entire length completely over, slamming the two Jaegers into the seabed. Herc and Chuck dug into one of his - shoulders? hips? - and managed to re-orient themselves, but Coyote wound up underneath, having to heave the beast's weight off them.

Then came a squelch and the blare of new toxicity warnings, and startled yells from Vic and Gunnar. " _The fuck - did he just take a shit on us?!_ "

_"Looks like he did, Coyote, and that stuff's caustic as hell - wash off, fast!_ " warned LOCCENT.

_"Oh, fuck, no, now this is getting personal!_ " Gunnar fumed.

Chuck actually had to hold back a laugh even as Ceramander twisted back to snap his injured jaws at Striker. They put another gash in the kaiju's abused neck, and it _rolled_ away rather than lashing and flipping his whole body. Awareness flickered through the drift from both of them: they were wearing this fucker down.

Coyote came leaping out of the water, having washed off the massive heap of toxic shit that the kaiju had dumped on them, with the pilots now roaring mad. They latched onto Cermander's lower jaw and pulled, dragging his head down with their considerable weight. _"Get him in the teeth, Striker!_ "

Herc and Chuck surged forward, practically standing on the lower jaw, getting one handhold on the monster's snout. They were dangerously close to the upper fangs and teeth if Ceramander threw them off, but their chest missiles were already armed.

"Fire!" Herc roared, right hand digging into his grip as the kaiju bucked and tossed his head. "Empty the clip!"

They had twelve rounds left. Without pausing to think too deeply about that count, Chuck slammed his left hand down on the trigger and six launched. Four missed the mouth, but two went straight into its throat. The screams were deafening, and Ceramander threw his head back, now they were looking _down_ into its maw, and Herc hit his trigger, and their remaining six rounds launched.

This time four struck home - the kaiju flipped, Herc lost his hold, and they went flying. Hitting the water, then the seabed, they clawed half-blind at their surroundings to ward off limbs and tail, then forced Chuck's foot under themselves to scramble upright, arms whirling...

One of Cermander's longer back leg/flipper/things was in front of them, and they slammed their hands down on it, expecting it to lash out at them... no resistance. No kicks or slashes. They blinked. The long, serpent tail floated on the surface, no longer lashing at them.

They panted, blinking sweat from their eyes. On the HUD, the kaiju's signature had disappeared. They turned, searching for their partner. Coyote was picking herself up from where Ceramander's throes and left her, just visible on the other side of its head. But Chuck could see her, because the kaiju's head was half-submerged and motionless.

Herc took a deep gulp of air, both of them still breathless from the landing, and hit the comm. "Coyote, you two all right?"

The comm buzzed and someone was coughing, sounding as winded as Chuck and Herc. " _We're okay, Striker. You in one piece?_ "

"I think so. LOCCENT, confirm no signature?"

_"_ _That's confirmed, Rangers: no signature. Repeat, no signature. Kaiju declared destroyed, 1622 hours local time!_ _Way to go, Coyote and Striker!_ "

Chuck stared at the HUD, then looked to his right at his father. Herc met his eyes at the same time. He smiled. _Good work, kid._ The drift welled with pride and satisfaction, and for once, Chuck thought his dad must believe he was good enough.

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** In the aftermath of their first kill, Chuck and Herc experience the power of drift shock and post-combat injury, and their Shatterdome-mates arrive to celebrate with comrades old and new in **Chapter Thirty-Five: Fresh From The Fight!**_
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Marshal Blake Ketteridge: Commanding Officer of Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force.
> 
> Greg Oliver: Herc's comrade and fellow chopper pilot from before K-Day, now a support pilot for Lucky Seven. Like Herc, he joined the Jaeger Program in the wake of Scissure. He lost his parents and his oldest daughter, Karina, in the attack. His son, Danny, was accepted into the Jaeger Academy after four tries despite lower academic scores than Chuck, and is now pilot of Tacit Ronin.
> 
> Kyrra Taior: Chief Engineer for Lucky Seven, then Striker Eureka. Aboriginal, Herc's age. Youngest and sole surviving daughter of Marian Taior, an elderly aboriginal woman who occasionally looked after Chuck when he was younger.
> 
> Valentina (Tina) Medina: Support chopper pilot, formerly of one of Gipsy Danger's strike troop command choppers. Part of the crew that replaced twelve of Gipsy's support personnel who died in the aftermath of the battle with Hardship. Mexican-American from Corpus Christi, Texas, mid-30s, active duty US Marines.
> 
> Hien Nguyen: Strike trooper formerly with Gipsy Danger, National Guard transplant, Vietnamese-American in her early 30s.
> 
> Marshal Ana Ramirez: Commanding Officer of Los Angeles Shatterdome, mid-40s, Mexican-American former US Army officer.


	35. Fresh From The Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of their first kill, Chuck and Herc experience the power of drift shock and post-combat injury, and their Shatterdome-mates arrive to celebrate with comrades old and new. Jaegerfest in Honolulu!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** Thank you all so much for the feedback, and for your patience with the delay in updating! Work has heated up tremendously (and looks to stay that way for the foreseeable future), so I'll update as regularly as I can, but there may be some stretches of time without a chapter._
> 
> _**Headcanon Notes:** The extended canon doesn't give details on Tamsin's relationship with the Pentecost siblings. My headcanon is that she was Luna's wife. The events recalled by Herc and Devi in this chapter are contained in Aurora Borealis, Chapter 10 (the Class 2016-B Becket Birthday Extravaganza) and Chapters 35-36 (the engagement with Hardship and its tragic aftermath)._

**Chapter Thirty-Five: Fresh From the Fight**

_Joint Base Pearl Harbor-Hickam Airfield, Hawaii…  
October 13, 2021…_

It took a few seconds for Chuck to remember what was supposed to come next: _diagnostics, power down, disengage, and await pickup_. He shook his head, then winced – he was sore from head to toe. They'd spent almost eight hours in the drift.

As he reached for the console to start running post-combat tests, he didn't even have to look to know Herc was doing the same, in exact synch with him. _"Everything changes the first time you drift in combat,_ " Devi and Suze had told them. _"The simulator and tests in the Jaeger can't prepare you for how it feels._ "

_"_ _What's your condition, Striker?_ " Chuck jumped as LOCCENT buzzed them again.

"Structural integrity's good, minor damage to the chest missile housing. Blown fuses and… LOCCENT, we've got some ruptured hydraulics on the right side. No major injuries…" Herc leaned forward and looked Chuck up and down. Chuck was about to agree that they were both in good shape, then winced as he flexed his right arm. "Maybe some pulled muscles."

_"_ _Chuck? You feeling okay?_ " Tendo pressed.

"I think so," he answered, rolling his head and grimacing at the deep throb. "My right shoulder's getting stiff, but my arm and hand are all right. I don't think it's bad."

"Vic? Gunnar? What about you?" called Herc.

_"_ _We're good, Herc. LOCCENT, permission to power down?_ "

_"_ _Rangers, this is Marshal Ramirez. You have permission to power down and exit for retrieval. Good work, gentlemen."_

Chuck reached for his half of the power-down switches, but Herc's caution tugged at him in the drift. _There'll be drift shock._

Chuck frowned to himself. _I feel fine now._

_Because the handshake's still intact. It hits everyone. Especially the first time._ _Just… brace yourself._

Would it really be like the Hassans, the Tunaris, and the other crews described, near-panic and complete loss of awareness of anything except his partner? Chuck had found himself standing closer to his old man than they'd used to do after long simulations and drills in Striker. He knew better than to sneer at any advice Devi and Suze or Vic and Gunnar gave him, but… well, it was still really weird to imagine himself feeling like that.

_No way to know until I go through it, I guess._ Chuck took a deep breath, wincing at the ache in his ribs and the deep throb in his shoulder, and disconnected his side of the handshake.

The drift drained away from his head, leaving him woozy and heavy – falling – _shit!_ He swayed in the harness, and if he hadn't still been in the rig, he'd probably have ended up on the floor. He heard/felt Herc sucking in a deep breath and disengaging himself, moving carefully to the left side of the conn-pod.

"Y'okay?"

_Breathe in…breathe out… don't panic, don't…_ "Yeah," Chuck croaked. He disconnected his own rig and stumbled forward a few steps – feeling like he was free-falling – until he hit Herc's hands, then his senses reoriented. Like his father's touch switched gravity back on. "Jesus. Okay, yeah, drift shock. 's like… a dream where you're flying 'till you fall."

So this was normal, feeling like he _needed_ to hang onto Dad, and if he let go he'd start falling again. Perfectly normal, everyone said, all the experienced Rangers. Nothing weird or embarrassing about it. And… even if it had been weird, Chuck wasn't sure he could have resisted anyway.

Dad didn't say anything about it, to Chuck's relief, just put an arm around his shoulders and guided him to the escape hatch. "Come on. Let's get out of here so the cleanup crews can get to work. Gotta keep the Blue offshore."

Chuck felt a laugh press his aching ribs. "And clean up the shit he took on Coyote. Hope someone got it on camera." He didn't have to look at Dad, because he _felt_ Dad's grin.

Ow – _fuck_ \- his shoulder hurt like hell climbing the ladder from the escape hatch. Worse was just the thirty seconds it took Dad to climb up behind him. It was all he could do not to spin back towards the hatch and grab onto his father. So instead, he stood rigid with his head swimming and heart hammering until Dad pulled himself upright and steadied them both again.

The ghost drift was still strong enough that they both knew it was mostly pretense, the hand Dad put on Chuck's arm as he looked at his shoulder. "Have you got range of motion?"

"Yeah, it just... hurts like hell." _Dad, don't let go._

_It's okay. This is normal._

Chuck looked at him, unsure if it was his own drift-addled brain playing tricks on him or not.

_It's not. I'm here._

He wanted his armor off. It was getting in the way. "Not yet," Dad said aloud. "When we're back at base. It won't be long."

His father kept a hand on his good shoulder while waving acknowledgement to the support choppers. Chuck's buzzing mind observed that it was Vibby Alpha; so Greg Oliver had gotten the honor of picking them up. Over Dad's shoulder, a few hundred meters away, barely visible over the top of the kaiju carcass, another rescue chopper was hoisting up Vic and Gunnar. The two men were practically in a pile on the lift rig. _So it really is normal to feel like this._

He gasped during the few seconds it took to climb from the rig into the chopper's cabin, just because Dad wasn't touching him, and felt a stab of anxiety through the ghost drift that must have come from his father's head. But they both grinned as the chopper crew whooped and applauded.

"Good kill, lad!" Greg's copilot, Marijani, was crowing. "Not bad for a first fight!"

Chuck laughed. "So I got a kill and didn't get dead. That mean I'm not a rookie anymore?"

"Actually, there's now a poll on who should be declared Rookie of the Year," Greg called from the pilot's seat. Everyone hooted as Chuck groaned.

Dad reached across Chuck to point accusingly at Greg. "You're not allowed to vote on that! You're biased!"

"Oh, and you're not?!"

_"And_ now the dads get into it!" Marijani huffed. "Saw that coming."

"I will turn this chopper around right now," Greg threatened, but his broad grin in the rear-view mirror undercut the threat.

* * *

Sasha and Aleksis returned to temporary headquarters just as the choppers bearing their triumphant fellow pilots arrived. Crowds were streaming to the edges of Hickam-Pearl Harbor airfield, waving and exulting the Rangers. To Sasha's amusement, the civilians as well as the Corps personnel went completely wild as Chuck Hansen came into view.

This was her first glimpse of Herc Hansen's boy in person, and she suspected that Matador's pilots of the same assessment in which she and Aleksis were engaged.

The youngest Ranger in history said very little as the crew ushered him to the infirmary, lost in the grip of drift shock. Along with drift shock always came the sheer disorientation that followed a pilot realizing he or she had gone into battle against a kaiju and lived.

Herc too was very quiet. Another time, Sasha would have expected him to be less susceptible to drift shock, but not today. He barely acknowledged anyone around him and simply watched his son. Well, this was their first shared combat drift, even if Herc had fought before with another partner.

Sasha wondered if it was as obvious to everyone else as it was to her: the boy was going to a great deal of effort not to simply stare back at his father. She wondered if Chuck Hansen's pretense was meant to fool his father (and if the boy was silly enough to imagine he could ever fool his father again) or the bystanders. Perhaps both.

To drift was to form the most powerful bond imaginable. Drift compatibility was expected between spouses, siblings, and friends, and while surprising, not shocking between new acquaintances. Herc's troubled relationship with his son was well-known, to the point where the experienced Rangers' disgust over the "recruiting" of Chuck had centered on the coercion of his father, not any real expectation that the two would actually become co-pilots. Even Sasha had deemed it a foregone conclusion: Herc and Chuck Hansen would not be drift compatible.

2020 had seen the collapse of many assumptions in the Jaeger Program, including that one.

Now, watching father and son in the wake of their first kill, Sasha silently mused that perhaps the fundamental ideas about drift compatibility had not been wrong after all. The drift required trust and a mutual choice. It required honesty and openness with one's partner and oneself. By all accounts, Herc and Chuck were practically estranged when the boy departed for the Jaeger Academy... but maybe outward behavior was deceiving.

Vic and Gunnar Tunari joked through the medical review, clearly for the benefit of their young trainee. Patient privacy protocols in this triage station had long been dispensed with once the medics realized that the jaeger teams that dropped together, stayed together post-battle until they were all sure of their teammates' medical conditions. The medics diagnosed the usual post-combat ailments: bruised ribs, muscle strain, and in Chuck's case, a briefly-dislocated shoulder.

"We'll take a look at the readings from your suit while the two of you were dangling by one arm from the mechanical bull out there, but you probably popped your arm out of the socket, then back in," one of the doctors told Chuck. "It'll be tender for a few weeks, so you'll have to go easy on it, but you should heal up fine."

"Will I be grounded?" was the first question on the boy's mind.

Vic Tunari waved dismissively. "Everybody's grounded for a few days or weeks after a fight, you just don't hear about it in public. Both our mechs will have to get reviewed, standard procedure, especially for a first fight. You won't be out from a wrenched shoulder any longer than anybody else." He frowned at the deep bruises on Chuck's neck and arm. "I hope they're gonna give your rig a good look. It shouldn't have thrown you around that hard."

"Sasha! Aleksis!" Herc kept one hand on the boy's uninjured shoulder as he waved them over. "Good to see you, old friends. My son, Chuck. Sasha and Aleksis Kaidanovsky, tsars of Vladivostok."

Sasha beckoned to Matador's pilots to join them, knowing neither had met the Hansens in person until now. "Andrés Alcazar and Daniel Moreno of Mexico. Hercules and Charles Hansen."

"That was a fine kill," Daniel told them.

"Sorry you had to come all this way with nothing to do," said Herc.

Andrés smiled. "There are worse places to wait out a fight than Honolulu. Our Marshals have kindly granted us leave for a few days before we return to our Shatterdomes."

"Hey, that's good planning," agreed Vic Tunari. "We should go -" he had to break off for a massive yawn, and they all laughed. "Okay, correction, we should go celebrate _tomorrow_ , after the four of us get some sleep."

"Agreed," called one of the medics. "Team Cherno and Matador can get a head start in Waikiki if they want, but you four are here overnight, standard procedure."

"Don't worry about it, mateys," said Tendo Choi. He clapped the two Hansens on the back. "That'll give us time to organize a party."

Sasha noticed that many of Striker Eureka's crew looked in on the infirmary after the Hansens were set up in the usual post-combat arrangement: two beds pulled up against each other. It was well-known among the Corps that pilots under the influence of drift shock thought nothing of curling up together during recovery.

Herc and Chuck Hansen did not... at least, not while they were conscious. Awake, each kept to his own mattress, but to Sasha's sly amusement, each time she peered back into their room, the sleeping father and son had gradually shifted closer and closer.

Early in the morning, just as she and Aleksis were departing to find their own beds for the night, she saw that Chuck had settled against Herc's side, with his head on his father's shoulder.

* * *

_He held on until it felt like his arm would be ripped out of the socket, trying to fend off the snapping jaws with his free hand. It was coming at their left side, the left, too close - notmysonChuck'sonmyleftnotmyboy -_

Herc jolted awake to a whimper near his ear. It was very quiet, but strange enough to wake him, because even when driftmares hit, he wasn't used to someone being this close. Then he looked to his left and remembered:

_Not Scott. Chuck._

His boy was here. Right here. With his back to Herc, his weight on his good shoulder, but overnight he'd wound up right against Herc's side. Herc had shifted against him too. To his amazement, they were practically spooning.

Drifting with Chuck was nothing like drifting with Scott. There had never been any question in either Hansen brother's mind as to who called the shots in a fight. Even at his most envious and resentful, Scott hadn't wanted to take on any more responsibility or effort than he had to, even in the conn-pod. Herc's memories of piloting Lucky Seven felt _heavy,_ as if the burden had been greater.

Maybe it was just Striker Eureka's cutting-edge technology, lightening the neural load and the mental stress.

_My ass._ Chuck had already been a stronger pilot at age sixteen than Scott had ever been. Herc smiled to himself; whenever that thought or a similar one occurred to him during sims, Chuck got indignant. That was a low bar to set, any standard based on Scott. But even when Scott had been at his best, fully committed and enthusiastic, he hadn't come close to the drive that Chuck possessed.

Drifting with his kid wasn't easy. Unlike Scott, Chuck was restless in the left hemisphere. Full of ideas and passion and... was that _hope_ that Herc sensed in him? The idea that this would all be _for_ something?

What did it say about Herc as a father _or_ drift partner that he hadn't recognized that before?

Another sound brought him back to the present, and the pang through the ghost drift brought him up sharp: Chuck wasn't just having bad dreams, he was really hurting.

"Hey." Herc shook the boy gently, taking care to stay on the left side, but all that got him was a lance of vicarious pain. Chuck jerked awake with a cry. "Shit! Chuck?"

"What's wrong?!" exclaimed the medics, swooping in from all directions.

Chuck came half-up as a spasm wracked him, and he hissed, " _Fuck!_ My _neck!_ "

"I thought you said it was his right shoulder!" Herc bellowed at the room in general.

"It is – hang on, Ranger, I know that hurts like hell," said the first medic to reach them. Chuck's breath hissed through his teeth as Herc and the doctors helped him sit up the rest of the way. "Your left side's spasmed up now. You probably slept on it wrong trying to favor the right. It happens – God, son, your neck's full of knots. Okay, let's get some painkillers and muscle relaxants into you. Bring us some hot packs, pronto," she ordered the nearest nurse.

Herc put a hand on the kid's shoulder and winced. Chuck's pain was like a knot in his own mind – and embarrassment buzzed around it like so many mosquitoes. Chuck was ashamed. He didn't want to seem weak.

_It's okay._ Herc moved aside to let the doctor give Chuck a couple of injections, and took the hot pack they handed him to press carefully against his neck himself. Chuck was hurting too badly to even be startled as Herc kept his hand there, holding the pack in place. Chuck squeezed his eyes shut, grinding his teeth, and Herc said, "Quit that, you'll just tighten up your jaw next. You're okay. Hang on, kid. It'll get better." _You're not weak._ "Hospital comes with the job. It's all right."

The knot gradually came undone as painkillers and muscle relaxants flowed through him, and Herc found himself supporting more and more of the kid's weight. Finally, Chuck slumped completely against Herc's chest, head on his shoulder, and some combination of ghost drift and drug bleed-over and just sympathy had Herc rubbing his back. "'s really okay?"

"Course it's okay. Feeling better?"

"Still hurts, just not… couldn't bloody move before. I was dreaming I was back in the pod and couldn' move…"

Herc sighed. Why'd it have to be the full Ranger experience, complete with nightmares right from the start? Couldn't the kid enjoy his first victory for twenty-four bloody hours?

"'s okay, Dad. 'm okay. You don't hafta worry 'bout me."

Herc blinked. Chuck looked up, no longer wincing as his neck relaxed… and the meds thoroughly drained his inhibitions away. Maybe it was feedback through the ghost drift that caused Herc to not be the least bit uncomfortable. Even… talkative.

"Sorry, kid. It's my job to worry 'bout you. It always will be. Didn't stop just because you got a kill stamp."

Chuck's eyes lit up like Herc hadn't seen in years. "I get a stamp now!"

"They told you it was only a matter of time. Believe 'em now?"

It was a few minutes before the kid answered. "Dad? Did you?"

Herc didn't have to think about his own answer. "Yeah. I always did."

The morning after, neither of them could quite remember what they'd talked about, except that it had been a good deal more sentimental than they'd been since Chuck was little. Herc was a little chagrinned, and could sense his son's discomfiture in the ghost drift. Well, a combination of post-combat drift shock, ghost drift, and painkillers could make anyone loose-tongued and sappy.

While getting showered and looked over again by the medics, they didn't take notice of the fact that Vic and Gunnar had already left the infirmary. When Herc did notice, he figured the Tunaris probably weren't losing any time to hit the beach before the post-combat shore leave ended.

* * *

_October 15, 2021…_

"Shh! Okay, everybody, Greg says they're up!"

"What the hell are you shushing for, Tendo, they're not gonna hear us outside!"

"Because it's fun!"

"Oh, okay. Everybody, shh!"

"SHH!"

"SHHHHHHHH!"

"SHADDUP!"

"Ow! Hey, quit shoving! Move over!"

"SHHH, SHHHH, SHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Sasha and Aleksis watched the madness out on the base green leading toward the gates with Matador Fury's pilots, at a slight remove from the heaps of humanity behind jeeps, hummers, and fences that made up the all-too-enthusiastic crews of Striker Eureka and Coyote Tango. "I suppose this is the Jaeger Program's version of subtlety," said Daniel.

"We pilot giant mechs against giant monsters, my friends," Sasha replied. "We do not _do_ 'subtle.'"

"Ah, of course."

"Okay, they're coming out! Everybody ready?"

"SHHHH!"

As Herc and Chuck emerged from the base infirmary, they were more preoccupied with the Hawaiian scenery than looking for lurking Rangers and crew behind vehicles and palm trees, so they were caught unawares with Tamsin Sevier (selected because she had the loudest voice) roared, "CRY HAVOC AND LET SLIP THE DOG OF WAR!"

The two men reeled back in shock as barking rang out. Perhaps it was not only parents who could always identify their children. In Herc's case, that would make sense, but young Chuck exclaimed, " _Max?_ " even before the source of the barking was visible to him.

The bulldog was let slip and charged straight for his owners amid the whoops and cheers of the watching crew. Boy and dog hit the ground in a heap of flying fur, laughter, and barking. Vic and Gunnar came behind bearing Striker Eureka's jackets, now adorned with a kill stamp beneath the Jaeger's logo. Amid much ribbing, Chuck finally untangled himself from Max and stood to accept jacket and hugs from fellow Rangers.

It was Herc who looked up first from getting slobbered over and figured out what was happening. He started to laugh. "When did you two get here?!" Devi and Susanti Hassan, followed by Daniel Oliver and Evelyn Nakano, came running towards their fellow Australians in Max's wake, laughing gleefully at the success of their surprise.

"And where'd you come from?" Herc demanded, spotting Oliver and Nakano.

"Admiral Yamamoto said we could have seven days leave post-engagement," the older boy announced. "Marshal Ketteridge gave Devi and Susanti the same."

As Team Cherno and Team Matador joined the younger Rangers, Sasha noted the way Herc tensed and looked around, warily expecting his commanding officer to approach. "Don't worry, he's not here," Devi told him.

Her younger sister winked. "We may have given him the impression we were taking our leave to go visit Brisbane - we said 'family,' just not which one!"

Herc roared appreciation at that and slapped the two women on the shoulders. "So that's how you get away with AWOL!"

"So let's get this party started!" The crews ushered their triumphant pilots to the motor pool.

"We got a sweet deal with one of the hotels. So long as you're willing to do your post-engagement interview on the property - they'll pick a nice spot for the press conference with their sign in the background - they'll comp us a whole wing," said Tendo.

"Wow," muttered Chuck. Then he asked in a rush, "Can Max come?"

"Of course, we checked!" said Devi Hassan, sounding miffed that he would doubt it. "Most of the beaches are still closed while the cleanup's in progress. The hotels are all on the bandwagon of giving complimentary rooms to the first responders and environmental crews."

"That must piss off the tourists," said Danny.

"Well, probably some, but most big beachfront resorts have a Kaiju Clause these days," Vic Tunari informed him. "They empty and shut down during alerts. Better a few thousand in refunds than a few hundred million in lawsuits if a kaiju knocks them down with people inside."

"They can come back once the kaiju's destroyed, but if cleanup is still in progress, they have to sign their life away in waivers," added Tamsin. "A lot of people don't think a holiday is worth risking Blue contamination."

The famous Waikiki Beach was far less crowded than it should have been during fine weather, but the rows of boats and ships on the horizon and ugly buoys and booms stretched over the water were a reminder that all was not yet entirely well. The long carcass of Ceramander was still being maneuvered onto aircraft carriers while environmental cleanup crews struggled to contain the slick of its toxic blood.

Sasha knew the beach resorts were not simply consumed with patriotic fervor and gratitude for the PPDC. Their future earnings would depend on the success of this work even after the kaiju was dead.

As for those travelers who had dared to sign their lives away to return to their resort hotels, they found the risk well worth it. The crews of no less than _six_ active Jaegers were in their midst from three different countries.

" _They're calling it Jaegerfest 2021!_ " the reporters announced. Hotels hopped on the bandwagon and hung banners celebrating and soliciting the PPDC personnel. _"The pilots of the Mark-1's, Cherno Alpha, Tacit Ronin, and Coyote Tango are mingling with their younger generation, Mark-3's Vulcan Specter and Matador Fury, and the rookie of the year, Mark-5, Striker Eureka, in the wake of a triumphant kill off the south shores of Oahu! K-Watch has stood down from this alert, and its personnel have been making their way over to Waikiki for some well-earned rest and celebration. Among them is veteran retired pilot Tamsin Sevier, predecessor of the Tunaris. So it's a class reunion for more than half of the pilots of the first Jaegers!_ "

* * *

Tamsin was looking very good, Herc thought as he introduced her to Chuck and the others. Maybe it wouldn't come down to losing her the way they'd lost Duc and Kaori.

It did turn out to be easier going through the post-engagement press conference in the gardens of a Hawaiian resort than outside a Shatterdome - and it definitely didn't hurt that Marshal Ketteridge wasn't there. "The ground crews didn't give him your exact itinerary," Devi whispered in Herc's ear. "He won't manage to get here until at least twenty-four hours from now - by then, all the big press conferences will be done."

So the triumph over Ceramander was lauded as being under the command of Marshal Ramirez from Los Angeles, and Herc and Chuck were quite pleased with that. "Were you hurt?!" a local student reporter asked Chuck, seeing the way he was favoring his right arm.

"I wrenched my shoulder a bit, that's all," he replied, friendly and casual. "There's never been a kaiju that didn't leave a few bruises."

"That jump from the helicopters was unbelievable! And you guys hanging off his fins when he came out of the water like that, it was like a movie!" someone gushed.

Chuck shrugged, and Herc managed not to grin too broadly at the way he tried to be modest. "Every kaiju's different. You have to be creative with these fu - these bastards. That's why Jaegers work better than just conventional weapons. We have to think and move like they do."

"Ecolé Polytechnique published a shark Jaeger design for the International Innovations competitions this year, since so many of the kaiju are fast swimmers," said another reporter. "Do you think something like that would work?"

"I'd really like to test drive that!"

They survived the media appearances until the hotel staff mercifully closed one of the restaurant/pool decks to reporters so the crews and Rangers could party undisturbed by cameras and microphones. Chuck, Danny, and Evie were a little hesitant at first, unsure of how free they could be amid the attention of the resort entertainers and free-flowing alcohol.

"You're fine, guys," Tendo and the experienced personnel told them. "Just keep your cash for tips if they won't let you pay for drinks, and remember to say thanks."

Herc and the elder Rangers sat at a slight remove, watching the kids sampling mai tais and gradually unwinding enough to get dragged into hula lessons and other Hawaii tourist shenanigans.

Even with the environmental cleanup, not many people, Corps or civilian, were terribly interested in going into the ocean. But it was still Hawaii, so people lounged on towels and in chairs further up on the sand, and splashed around the resort pools. Restaurants and clubs reopened with hefty discounts for crew, and music of every genre floated over the beach from resort to resort.

Years ago, the world's bartenders had begun unveiling cocktails named after each Jaeger. Tonight, a group of them launched a contest to invent the new Striker Eureka-themed cocktail, judged by Herc, Chuck, and a poll of all Striker crew in attendance. A big punch bowl of rum, white wine, vodka, and orange juice with little K-stunner blue jello shots floating in it won the prize.

Team Cherno and Team Matador were all pleased with their signature cocktails, though a diplomatic incident soon arose when Sasha discovered one of the bars selling a beverage blend known as Vodquila. "WHAT IS THIS MONSTROSITY!?"

Aleksis, Daniel, and Andrés initially agreed with her that it was a crime against humanity and an affront to the fine distilling traditions of both Russia and Mexico. Their respective crews chimed in to agree, until some smartass (possibly Tamsin), questioned who exactly had invented that drink.

World War III looked imminent, with Sasha and Daniel roaring at each other in Spanish, pointing fingers and accusing each other's countries of the crime. Each insisted that no self-respecting son or daughter of their mother nation would have allowed such a disgrace.

"When they come to blows, my money's on Sasha," said Susanti.

"Don't be so sure, love. Daniel Moreno placed third at the sparring tournament last year," Kyrra warned.

Nuclear war between Russia and Mexico was averted when it was discovered that the offending potable had been invented by Americans. The Tunaris and all the US transplants promptly ran for their lives amid a barrage of Russian and Spanish profanity. The bartender hid the bottle (but handed out free shots to anyone who wanted to taste it when Team Cherno and Matador weren't looking.)

"Ugh, that is disgusting!" Evie Nakano spat, handing her half-full shot glass to Chuck. Chuck sniffed at it dubiously before taking a tiny sip, and made a face that resembled Max. "Bloody Americans. No palate at all!"

"It's not exactly in demand!" said the harried bartender. "We really just have it as a novelty item from the distributor."

"Novelty's fine until nationalism gets involved," said Tendo, fishing a K-stunner shot out of the Striker Eureka punch bowl for Alison.

The Russians and the Mexicans had gotten over it and were settling their differences with the Americans via a dance off under the lights as the sun went down. Everybody who lost a one-on-one match got thrown into the pool. Herc had the good sense not to try, but nearly laughed himself off his bar stool because Chuck didn't. The kid had imbibed enough to not care if he made a fool of himself, but being tipsy didn't make him any better a dancer. He lost his second round (hell, the first win was probably just Ranger popularity), but Kyrra and Devi managed to halt the audience from hurling the kid into the pool by his arms and legs like the other eliminated contestants.

"Don't hurt his shoulder anymore!"

"Fine, fine," Chuck waved them off, downed the last of his drink, and went for the edge of the deck. "Then for duty and honor, king and country, I jump!"

Everyone whooped and cheered, and from then on, all the dance-off losers had a choice between being thrown into the "kaiju tub" as a human sacrifice or committing ritual belly flop. The pool deck rang with battle cries and dying declarations (Andrés Alcazar finished with a Shakespearean monologue after losing to Vic Tunari).

Devi, like Herc, had the good sense not to offer herself as a contender in the dance-off, but gleefully claimed rights along with Indra to throw Suze into the pool after she lost. Herc and Tamsin gleefully took advantage of the shorter lines for the buffets while all the dance-off participants had to go back to their rooms for dry clothes. Chuck reappeared with the Tunaris, Team Tacit Ronin, and Team Vulcan Specter all sporting new Hawaiian shirts, and demanded that Herc exchange his olive drab immediately. "We just bought out three gift shops' worth of shirts and grass skirts!" giggled Evie Nakano.

"That's why it helps to live here," Tamsin informed them. (She was wearing a floral dress and a lei already.)

Herc gamely shucked his to put on the loud-printed floral monstrosity his son had picked, only to have Suze Hassan roar, "HERC HANSEN'S TAKING HIS CLOTHES OFF!"

"WOOOOO!"

"You - bloody -" Herc growled promises of vengeance as his kid collapsed with laughter, the crews hooted, and bystanders whistled. He fully intended to throw Suze back into the pool once he had his Hawaiian shirt on, but she evaded him and went running off down the beach. "I _will_ get her for that," he informed Devi.

Mock-glaring, Devi replied, "You get my sister; _I'll_ be having a little chat with _your_ chief engineer about what my sister's doing with a flower over her left ear."

"Oi?"

Feigning disapproval, she leaned toward him and whispered, "It means 'in a relationship.' She and Suze have been swearing it wasn't anything serious."

"Ahhhh." Herc scanned the women and noted Devi, Tamsin, and the ones he knew to be unattached had flowers behind their right ears. Both Kaidanovskys had flowers behind their left ears, as did the married and attached crew. (Well, several of the crew had flowers behind both ears.)

Herc and Tamsin strolled under the light of tiki torches watching the crews dance. A large crowd was gathered around a big screen on the sand to view an American football game being broadcast somewhere in the US, and the crowd went crazy when a group of the players turned to the camera to give a shout-out to " _our Jaeger troops in Hawaii_."

"And a year ago they were talking about evacuating the Hawaiian Islands permanently," Tamsin snorted.

"Was that just the politicians, or did a lot of the locals pack up too?"

"No, the locals have stayed. It's all fine for celebrities and officials to put their summer houses on the market, but the ones who've been here for generations aren't interested in letting their home go without a fight. Tourism has suffered, but it isn't gone. This population has reinvented itself for foreign whims before. Most of them are ready to do it again if they have to. They aren't terribly keen on hiding behind a wall either." Tamsin smiled, turning towards Pearl Harbor and the silhouette of Coyote Tango against the Hawaiian sunset. "I wondered who would be the Jaegers that got the job of defending us."

"You miss her?"

"Always." She gave him a knowing look. "And you? Do you ever think about your old girl?"

Herc chuckled. "Sometimes. I almost... almost got rid of my old Lucky vest. It was Chuck, talked me out of it."

"Good on your lad. Lucky deserves to be remembered." Shrieks and barking rang out, and Chuck went speeding down the sand with Max, Team Tacit Ronin, and a flock of preteens at his heels. Tamsin shook her head. "When did they all get so damned tall?"

"Tell me about it. Danny Oliver over there, his father's one of my support pilots. Two years ago, we were breaking up fights in the bloody day care. Now they've both got kill stamps. Greg and me can't figure out what the hell happened. Do you spend much time with Stacker's girl?"

"Sixteen, Herc. She's bloody sixteen and about to finish high school!"

"Good god." When Herc had seen her in 2018 during the Sydney tour, she'd still been learning English, and one of the crew had had to lift her up so she could see over the top of the safety rails. "Another dangerously smart one. Are there boys as well?"

"Worse. There are Jaegers." Tamsin gestured to Coyote, now illuminated by spotlights. "She's had her heart set on Academy from day one."

"Will Stacker let her go early?" _If not, I hope he's better prepared for sneaking about than I was._

He didn't say that aloud, but the faint grimace that Tam shot him said she knew what he was thinking. "They had quite the serious talk about it. She's a passionate girl, but I don't think she'd try without his blessing while she's underage. They have an understanding: she'll start some college classes and prepare herself, and he'll permit her to apply for 2023-A. She'll turn eighteen that term." Tamsin smiled. "If all goes well, perhaps we'll see a few more Mark-5's needing pilots by then."

"Ever the optimist," Herc observed.

Tamsin punched him lightly. "How many times in eight years have we thought all was lost?" Her gaze went a little soft as she watched the younger crew dancing. Herc noticed that she still wore her dog tags. There were two rings hanging from their chain - unmistakably wedding bands.

Herc silently mused that he could have stood to feel less sorry for himself in these past years. _I wasn't the only one widowed by kaiju. Not even the only one to lose my Jaeger and my partner._ And he'd survived with his health intact, unlike Tam. "It all looks a bit less grim when everyone's dancing," he remarked. "Does your girl get to visit often? I hear K-Watch is still a prized internship."

Tamsin grinned. "I'd like nothing better, but she's quite the little J-Tech. Her father was a traditional swordsmith; it's remarkable, the metallurgy she knew just at age eleven. She'll finish her secondary school this year with two-year degrees in mechanics and robotics just from the electives and special tracks with the local colleges. It's her back-up plan before _and_ after Academy if need be."

"I'm glad she's got one," Herc muttered. He'd wondered more than once what Chuck would do if they'd failed to be drift compatible. As much as he'd once hated the thought of his teenager in a Jaeger, he hadn't quite managed to wish failure on him.

"Oi, don't get maudlin. You and Chuck are well-matched in the Mark-5, however it came about. Worry later." Tamsin rolled her eyes. "You can be as bad as Stacks."

"Oi, no need to get personal!" They both laughed. "Compare me to a Brit; that's a duel right there." Tamsin laughed harder. Up on the pool deck, Tendo Choi and Devi Hassan came staggering off the dance floor with a very tipsy Alison Begay between them. "I've seen this lot get their party on before," Herc mused. "Back at the Academy. Krieger and the US brass were visiting, 2016, and the twins and the Tunaris were having a dance party in Romeo Blue's bay. I thought Stacks would pop a blood vessel."

Tamsin roared with laughter. "I remember that! Caitlin wheedled him out of reprimands, but he was fit to be tied. Hey, steady on, Ranger!" she exclaimed, as Tendo and Alison threw Devi off - and almost threw her into Herc's lap in the process.

"Shit! Sorry!" Giggling, Devi fanned herself. "All right, no more mai tais _or_ hula lessons for me!"

"No conga line this time?" Herc asked her, winking at Tamsin.

"Huh?"

* * *

If Devi had been less drunk, she'd probably have been more embarrassed to find out Herc had witnessed the 2016-B Becket Birthday Extravaganza (along with Marshall Pentecost and half of the PPDC brass!) But she'd had more than enough mai tais, Vulcan Specters (whiskey, pineapple, and ghost chili seeds), and pina coladas to not give a damn anymore. So she flopped onto a cabana next to Herc and began gleefully pointing out everyone she remembered being in that party and what they'd got up to.

"Christian Warner – he's with K-Watch now, but he was J-Tech then - he and the Tunaris sang. Whenever there's karaoke, he sings. His sister Chloe's here somewhere. Sometimes they sang together but she gets stage fright unless you get her drunk first. Tendo... don't let him be DJ unless you want to hear nothing but disco for hours!"

"Ohh, yes, Team Striker knows about Tendo," Herc chortled. "And when he's on the dance floor, you think you've landed in a Travolta movie."

Devi cackled. "Some of the weirdest tastes came out of Team Gipsy. Tendo and one of their PC's, Antwan, he used to –"

Then she remembered.

She couldn't point Antwan Ferrier out to tell Herc about his concussion-risking dance moves or compare his size to Aleksis Kaidonovsky… because Antwan was dead. Or Nikki Harris, the EMT whose dance skills were actually up to date and who'd tried and tried again to make a proper dancer out of Raleigh Becket, but for all his enthusiasm, Raleigh was simply dreadful – Nikki had died along with Antwan and ten other support crew in the aftermath of Hardship when one of Gipsy Danger's support choppers was destroyed.

Hardship had been such a bloody horrible engagement, with Diablo Intercept's Rangers nearly killed, and so many Corps personnel lost. Most of that support chopper crew had been graduates of Class 2016-B. Devi and Suze had been heartsick; Raleigh and Yancy and the rest of Team Gipsy had been devastated.

And a year later, Yancy...

"Hey, now, Dev, don't do that." Herc put a hand on her shoulder. "Tamsin already got on me: no being maudlin tonight."

"Yeah," she mumbled, searching for anything to think about that wouldn't lead her mind back to dead friends.

Herc pulled her to her feet and took one for the team by daring the ribbing and jostling of the dance floor. But there was enough chaos to serve as a distraction, and enough of their fellow partygoers were trashed that Herc and Devi didn't really stand out as the worst dancers of the lot. Then it all turned into a blur of colored lights and laughing voices and music and sand under her bare feet.

And Herc. His arms and his hands, his eyes and... and his lips.

Devi and Herc weren't the first pair to lose inhibitions that night, even if Devi didn't consider herself a make-out-on-the-dance-floor sort of girl. For awhile, it didn't matter; their feet flew and they swung in and out of each other's orbit like comets and kept coming back for more.

It was a lot later, and her head was a little clearer, when she saw Vic and Gunnar over Herc's shoulder, and with them, Indra – all grinning like Cheshire cats. _Get a room!_ Indra mouthed.

Devi flipped him off, then met Herc's eyes and... well, maybe that wasn't a bad suggestion.

As they dodged through the crowd to head back to the hotel, Devi's ghost drift rang with her sister's mental bellow of, _FINALLY!_

**_To Be Continued..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Coming Soon:_ ** _Many of Team Striker Eureka and Team Vulcan Specter have been eagerly awaiting the day that Devi Hassan and Herc Hansen would act on their attraction... but Chuck isn't so pleased. Our heroes face a frustrating choice in_ **_Chapter Thirty-Six: Trouble in Paradise!_ **
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Marshal Blake Ketteridge: Commanding Officer of Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force.
> 
> Greg Oliver: Herc's comrade and fellow chopper pilot from before K-Day, now a support pilot for Lucky Seven. Like Herc, he joined the Jaeger Program in the wake of Scissure. He lost his parents and his oldest daughter, Karina, in the attack. His son, Danny, was accepted into the Jaeger Academy after four tries despite lower academic scores than Chuck, and is now pilot of Tacit Ronin.
> 
> Kyrra Taior: Chief Engineer for Lucky Seven, then Striker Eureka. Aboriginal, Herc's age. Youngest and sole surviving daughter of Marian Taior, an elderly aboriginal woman who occasionally looked after Chuck when he was younger.
> 
> Andrés Alcazar and Daniel Moreno: Matador Fury's Rangers, Mexican nationals, early 40s. Andrés was a historian and Daniel was a lawyer, both writing and working against institutional corruption before imprisoned for an unknown period. They were released along with other non-violent prisoners to attempt the Jaeger Academy, but have not yet been granted a pardon.
> 
> Christian Warner: Former Gipsy Danger drivesuit technician, age 30ish, African-American from Atlanta, GA, attended Academy with Beckets and his sister, Chloe. After Yancy Becket's death, he transferred to K-Watch with Chloe permanently, unable to work on another Jaeger crew.
> 
> Chloe Warner: K-Watch worker in Honolulu, transferred after she and her brother Christian failed to become Rangers at Academy. Late 20s.
> 
> Nicola Harris: Rescue/recovery EMT, age 21 from San Diego, CA, black/Latina. Occasionally had a casual hook-up with Raleigh, graduated Jaeger Academy Class 2017-A as a support officer. Killed in Action in January 2019 in the aftermath of Hardship's attack on Chile.
> 
> Antwan Ferrier: Gipsy Danger Personnel Coordinator. Age 39, Jamaican national, oldest member of Class 2016-B in the Jaeger Academy with the Beckets and Tendo. Killed in Action in January 2019 in the aftermath of Hardship's attack on Chile.


	36. Trouble in Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many of Team Striker Eureka and Team Vulcan Specter have been eagerly awaiting the day that Devi Hassan and Herc Hansen would act on their attraction... but Chuck isn't so pleased. Our heroes face a frustrating choice, and a new PPDC offensive begins with the aid of the Gottliebs - both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** Special thanks to Raine_Wynd for beta reading! Many thanks to all of you for your patience during this long wait! I'm afraid there will be another long wait for the next chapter - Christmas Day was probably the last day off (including weekends and my upcoming birthday) that I'll get until mid-February. Please do keep the feedback coming. I'm squeezing in writing and editing whenever I can, so there are more chapters in the pipeline after my big February work deadline passes!_
> 
> _**Canon Note:** In the extended canon, Vanessa Gottlieb is a model. In this fic headcanon, she's a model and a geophysicist. (Hey, a scientist can moonlight as a model, or a model can moonlight as a scientist!)_

**Chapter Thirty-Six: Trouble in Paradise**

_Honolulu, Hawaii…  
October 15, 2021…_

Herc was grinning like a Cheshire cat as Devi led the way to her room. "I hope your sister's bunking with Kyrra."

"Oh, yes. I think they pulled rank on got their hands on a Jacuzzi suite. And yours knows not to expect you back tonight?"

He laughed as she pressed him against the door while slapping the Do Not Disturb sign into place. "Dunno if he's got a Jacuzzi suite, but - "

Suddenly, he faltered, his eyes off in the distance as he processed _something_ not-so-good. Devi knew that look. Every Ranger who drifted knew it. "What's wrong? Herc?" Alarm killed her mood and the remnants of the alcohol in her system. Chuck was only eighteen, going wild at a party after his first kill… "Chuck, is he okay?"

" – yeah." Herc shook himself back into his own body, visibly resisting whatever was coming through the ghost drift. "Yeah, he's fine, just… well… doesn't like sensing me… you know, teenagers."

_Oh._ Well, shit. It was like a splash of cold water, turning tonight from a long time coming to really bloody awkward. Devi stared at the door. _Do Not Disturb. Jaeger pilots getting some stress relief, it's not a crime._ But… first and foremost came consideration for their drift partners.

Herc took a step away. "You'll not be up for asking forgiveness instead of permission, then." He sounded frustrated – hell, why shouldn't he be? Devi was the one who kept jerking him around.

Was that fair? It wasn't just about the two of them. "Not… not if he's got a problem, no. Whether it's justified or not," she added wryly. "Hawaii or not, it doesn't _have_ to be straight to this." _Especially not when I might want more than just a string of one-night stands._

To her intense relief – and very much to his credit – Herc took it gracefully. "Nah, we're both grown-ups. And we work together."

But Suze's frustration now blasted through Devi's head like feedback, and she winced. Herc grinned, trying to shrug it off, and Devi might have done, if this time her sister couldn't keep her thoughts to herself. Over five years of drifting had given them nearly-constant telepathy. _Tell him_ something, _you bloody idiot!_

"Yeah, exactly. We work together. So we don't have to rush if… I don't want to." She gulped. It'd been a long, long time since she'd had to have a conversation like this. First time since before K-Day, really. Herc stared, but… did she dare to think it wasn't just embarrassment on his part? She tried to be coy about it, make herself seem a little less like she was in a Regency romance. "So I'm saying talk to your kid, Hercules. If you haven't explained the birds and the bees to him by now, you really need to catch up."

Herc guffawed, and they both leaned against the door. It made it less painful when she flipped the Do Not Disturb back off. "I wasn't _that_ bad a parent. He knows about the facts of life… just maybe not that they still apply to me too."

_Or…_ it occurred to Devi that Chuck and Herc had been drifting barely a year. While he'd undoubtedly pick up that Herc was getting lucky, would he realize Herc's wasn't just a Jaeger Fly? Hell, during their first few years, Devi and Suze probably couldn't have identified each other's partners without talking to each other. Chuck was still young, and being a tested pilot now with a kill to his name wouldn't change the fact that he'd only just turned eighteen. And his father a widower… Shatterdome gossip had noted (and marveled over) Herc's celibacy. The idea of him stepping back into the dating world might be unsettling to the kid.

"Suze agrees with you, for what it's worth," she told Herc. "That we should just seize the day, but – well, nothing's that simple. We've both got someone else weighing in on what goes on in our heads. It's not right to pretend we don't notice if it bothers Chuck."

Herc sighed dramatically. "You and Dr. Dahari, always at us to _talk._ "

Now she was laughing, and deliberately avoiding looking at that nice hotel bed and how very lonely it'd be by herself. Maybe they could… no, not even that. Chuck wouldn't understand until they had that talk. "Does he… know that it's me?" Herc frowned to himself. "Maybe that's the way. We work together, we're mates, sometimes, it's just…the way it works out. After all, he must know Rangers do that."

"I'll sound him out. Tomorrow, maybe he'll be in a good mood," Herc added sourly. Devi managed not to giggle. So that brat had plans of his own tonight, for which he was not seeking permission, but had made it very clear via the ghost drift that he Did Not Approve of his father indulging the same pleasures of the flesh, in Hawaii, no less.

So that was all. They could manage tonight like adults. If Herc wanted… "If you'd rather go find someone a bit less complicated, I don't mind."

Herc smiled, and something made heat grow in her. "Maybe I'd… rather see where we go. Once we've got the kid sorted out."

He came towards her again, and gave her a far less awkward kiss. _I don't want to drop this,_ she wanted to say. _I want a chance with you. I just know we can't disregard Chuck._ Perhaps it wouldn't be complete endorsement from the start, but the fact that it was Devi… maybe she'd have some clout. He still might be doubtful, or maybe the fact that both Devi _and_ Herc had held off to talk with him would calm him down, let him know he wasn't being abandoned by his father. _Fellow Rangers or not, that's what I'd owe to the child of a man I wanted, even just to date._

"Then I'll wait. Until we know we're not unsettling the co-pilots. We've got three more days, you know."

* * *

_October 16, 2021…_

_Psst!_ "Hey, Tendo, wake up! You owe me twenty bucks!"

"Muh? Wha?" Tendo untangled himself from a pile of crew on the beach. (All the resort security had looked the other way when it was PPDC personnel staying out past hours.)

Alison and a couple of the crew from the other mechs were clustered around one of the few bars that was still open. "Herc just got spotted on the walk of shame, babe!"

"Dammit!" Tendo pulled out his wallet. "I used to be better at predicting the hook-ups. Was I at least right about Chuck and Evie Nakano?"

"That one you got right, man, but hang onto your cash." Christian Warner would disclaim participating in the hookup pool when his sister was around (Chloe Warner did NOT approve) but he was a shameless gossip otherwise. "I saw Herc. Babes, that ain't the walk of shame, that's the walk of disappointment."

"Aw, come on," one of Vulcan's crew, Erin, gave him a shove. "Dev's been hot for Herc almost from day one. They might've just been trying to keep a low profile, get him back to his room before Chuck gets home."

Christian shook his head and raised his right hand. "Scout's honor. It did not happen tonight, not unless it was the quickiest quickie in the history of quicks, and neither of them are like that. Devi's too nice to kick a guy out of her bed even if he wasn't all that, and Herc's too gentlemanly to bang and run." He hastily looked around to make sure Chloe wasn't in the vicinity, and Alison and Tendo laughed. "They had second thoughts."

The wagerers pondered that information. "Damn." Erin contemplated her twenty dollars and made a face. "Susanti's gonna be pissed. She's been shipping her sister and Herc so bad, you'd think this was a Marvel movie."

* * *

"I _cannot_ bloody believe you sent him away." Suze was indeed ready to strangle her sister.

"Chuck - "

"Fuck Chuck!" Susanti realized what she'd said a split-second after she said it and hit Devi with a pillow. "That came out wrong, but you bloody well know what I mean. He's bloody eighteen, Dev, so he can get the hell over who his dad sleeps with!"

Devi caught the pillow on the second swing and threw it across the room. This whole conversation had started like a shared laugh, but something harder and hotter inside was taking over, and she wasn't finding it so funny anymore. "Yeah, because I'm a cocktease who _owes_ it to Herc to let him in my pants."

"That is NOT what I meant and you bloody well know it!"

"Well, what do you mean, then?" Devi didn't intend to actually stick around for explanations, except that Suze got between her and the door.

"Was that a rhetorical question, then?"

Devi seriously considered fighting her way past. "Fine, it was. Now let me out. We haven't had a holiday in years, and I don't want to wreck it."

Suze softened a little, but didn't let her pass. "It doesn't have to wreck it, but let me say my piece."

"And who the hell says you get a 'piece' in my love life?"

" _You_ do, remember, or is it only Chuck whose feelings matter?"

… _Fuck._ Devi looked down. With no good response coming to mind, she turned away and went out onto the balcony. It was a pretty day. Were Hawaii's beaches that much lovelier than Australia's, or was it just the tourist mythos about the place? She almost shut the door behind her, but some combination of guilt and frustration and loneliness made her stop. It came from both her own head and the ghost drift. For a few minutes, she just stood there, breathing the salty air… until she caught a whiff of something nasty. Sulfur and ammonia, maybe just industrial fumes from the busy city… or maybe the kaiju carcass still being wrestled onto the aircraft carrier a couple of miles offshore.

Suze came out and sat on the lounge chair. "Are you really going to hold out for Chuck's blessing to move on Herc?"

Devi sighed. It wouldn't do any good to pretend that she knew exactly what she was holding out for. Not with Susanti. "Not his 'blessing,' no. It's not as if I'm hoping to be his stepmum by year's end." _Well, all right, maybe the thought's occurred to me now and then._ "But I don't want to hurt him either. Even if he weren't Herc's co-pilot, that'd be true, and it's even more true because they drift. That's the first consideration."

"Maybe. But I don't think that's what's stopping you."

"No?" She couldn't help the edge in her voice. _Well, I'm so fucking sorry for giving a damn about how other people feel._ She managed not to say it out loud, but Suze heard it anyway and pursed her lips. _Don't glare at me for what I think. At least I_ try _not to say hurtful things out loud._

_And I'm not_ trying _to be hurtful._ "Is it really about Chuck, or just you afraid to take a risk?" _I'm in your head too much to miss the way you feel about him. You keep talking yourself out of actually acting on what you want, and now_ he's _waiting too. He didn't have to spend last night alone after you backed off, but he did._

"Well, it's not just about what I want."

_"_ _Dev._ " Susanti's voice was hard, a warning that she wouldn't be put off. But it wasn't as unsympathetic as it might have been. It only made Devi cringe more. "That's not what this is about. And yeah, at the end of the day, you are jerking him around. And by extension, you're jerking Chuck and me around."

Suze didn't elaborate. She didn't need to. They were drift partners, and even if they hadn't been… Devi would probably have known what her sister was saying. What Susanti was finally forcing herself to say.

_This isn't about family or camaraderie. It isn't about concern for Chuck or Herc. You're playing a dangerous game, and it has to stop._

_It's not a game._

_Isn't it?_ Was that her sister she was arguing with inside her head, or her own conscience? It wasn't just them she was being unfair to. There was an audience in her head whether either of them wanted it that way or not.

_This back and forth's driving me mad, and it's not doing Herc and Chuck any favors either. It has to stop, Dev. Make up your mind._ "We're not allowed to be normal, remember?" her sister said aloud. "Not about anything." _Or anyone. Least of all other Rangers._ "If you want Herc, act on it. Chuck can get over it. Or if you really can't handle if it the kid goes into a snit, then let it go for good and find someone else.

Suze was right. They both knew it. There was a line in the sand, and none of them could afford Devi trying to walk it any longer. She knew the risks. She knew the consequences. Time to decide.

* * *

_October 17, 2021…_

Half the visiting population of Honolulu was spying on the Hansen-Hassan negotiations over the remainder of their holiday. Chuck wasn't visibly out of sorts, but he did seem to be making an awfully conscious effort to avoid his father. He and Evie Nakano were occupied with every tourist activity they could find, while Evie's co-pilot had found himself a local surfing instructor.

"Damn, I thought Danny and Evie were gonna be another pair that ended up married," said Tendo, having lost a bet on that portion of the bracket.

Sasha Kaidanovsky shook her head, twirling a bottle of vodka in an ice bucket and accepting her winnings. (By all accounts, Sasha had _never_ lost one of the gossip betting pools.) "Daniel Oliver has always liked boys. He and Evelyn take care of each other – they're young and lively – but without the drift, they would not. She is an adventurous girl, but only with boys. Her only regret is that Daniel's Hawaiian friend wasn't interested in them both."

"And Chuck?" Tendo asked, grinning.

Aleksis was the one who answered that: "If it is alive, willing, and human, Chuck will do it." There were squeals and snorts of laughter and gasps from the more innocent souls. Tendo slapped his thighs, chortling at all the reactions. After a year on Team Striker Eureka, he couldn't deny, Aleksis had the way of it.

"You have to be careful who you say that around, my friend," he warned Aleksis, doing a quick check for reporters. "Some of the Aussies still think of Chuck as their baby. They get weirded out by including him in the hookup stuff."

"He has only been eighteen for a few months. Psst!" Alison poked him when she spotted Devi and Suze coming back from whatever excursion they'd been on. "Seriously, _what_ is she waiting for?!"

Sasha snorted. "She is a right-hand pilot. It is the same reason she and Herc cannot dance well together. Neither is willing to relinquish the lead."

Tendo and the crew mulled over that. Most of them had been betting big on an epic bodice-ripper consummation of Devi and Herc's very obvious attraction… but looking at the stats chart, Tendo noticed Sasha had not. "Really? You think not at all? _Never?_ " Devi and Herc had been making eyes at each other since Tendo had joined the team, and according to the Aussies, it had been going on long before that.

"Alas." Sasha shook her head and considered Devi, who was sitting at one of the resort bars like she was waiting for someone. "Hercules does not like complications. Nor does she. It is too complicated for either of them."

* * *

When she picked up through the ghost drift that Herc hadn't managed to come straight out and talk to Chuck, Suze was frustrated (again) but not surprised. The whole thing was turning into a complete train wreck, making her feel like she had a perpetual itch inside her skull. She came dangerously close to storming up to the man and bellowing, "Just fucking shag already!"

The tension was palpable enough that Herc did mumble to Devi that maybe she'd get more out of Chuck than he had. _Coward,_ Suze thought.

Devi approaching Chuck herself, as if asking bloody permission, was not what Suze would have considered an ideal outcome, but… at least her sister was _doing_ something instead of continuing to moon about Herc, carrying on with this will-they-won't-they soap opera.

Suze really wasn't planning on or trying to eavesdrop on that uncomfortable conversation. But there was a problem with five-plus years of drifting... the stronger the emotions, the stronger the ghost drift. Devi was so nervous when she went to find Chuck that everything she saw and heard, said and felt was being broadcast through the ghost drift. Suze might as well have been following her on a hidden camera.

When Chuck saw Devi approaching, the scowl on his face made Susanti's connection to her sister's senses that much harder to ignore. For a minute, it looked as if he'd just storm off without talking to Devi at all. Susanti's blood boiled as hurt sizzled through her sister.

_That bloody, petty brat - no._ It wasn't right to try to influence this. She stumbled out onto the beach and stared at the waves. Rolling, rolling, foam making patterns on their crests and all the aqua and indigo colors, seagulls dipping and diving, as if there was never any danger of a monster rising out of this ocean...

But it was like a television - with surround sound - that she couldn't fully turn off. The best she could hope for was not to deliberately try to affect how Devi handled it. Suze had said her piece. Now the rest - and ultimately, the choice - lay in her sister's hands.

_"I thought maybe you didn't know it was me the other night."_

_Chuck shrugged. "Two days out of combat drift. I couldn't very well not know." He kept his attention on Max, who was enjoying rolling around in the sand._

_Devi started toward him, but he stiffened, as uncomfortable in her presence as he'd been at thirteen. It cut her deep, making it feel like the years she'd spent with him weren't worth anything._

_Devi knew Herc and Suze wanted her to tell the kid to get over it. He shouldn't get veto power over his father's relationships. Chuck was too dedicated to piloting to let a stupid squabble with his father put the drift at risk. He'd deal with it._

_Devi sat down on the sand where she was, a few paces away. He shot a quick look at her before turning his attention back to Max. "You're not all right with it, I guess."_

_It wasn't a question. The kid shrugged. "Not up to me."_

_And as frustrated and stung as she was, Devi couldn't miss it._ Nearly a mile down the beach, staring at the sea, Suze couldn't miss it either, and it flashed through both of their stomachs. _The set of his shoulders, the tension in his jaw... this wasn't just a sulk. Chuck was hurt. Not by his old man flirting, but by Devi being the one he flirted with. It wasn't just that Herc had miffed him; Chuck was upset with them both. This wasn't just jealousy about having to share Herc's attention._

_Devi got up and came closer, and this time, Chuck let her. But he leaned away and muttered, "You can do what you like. It doesn't matter what I think."_

_"Yes, it does."_ To me. _She didn't have to say that out loud. Chuck would scoff if she'd tried to insist that his wishes mattered to Herc. Two years of drifting, now with a kill, and he still doubted it. Was this the first time he'd doubted his worth to Devi? So she waited until he looked at her. "Things will go badly again sometimes. We'll win some battles, and we'll lose some. We'll lose other crew, other Jaegers, even if we do win the war."_

_That startled Chuck. "You don't think we'll win?"_

_"Not always. The only ones in a war like this who don't doubt anything wear red robes and chant over kaiju bones." Chuck snorted, but he grinned. "Sometimes when Ketteridge is being an ass, we've wished we were at a different Shatterdome. But no other Dome had you to remind us every day what we were fighting for." Devi smirked and gave Max an especially-vigorous head knuckling. "And Max." Chuck laughed and dodged her attempt at giving his head the same treatment. "You mattered to us before you ever set foot in a conn-pod. Don't ever think that'll change."_

_Chuck looked at her, then quickly turned his gaze out to the ocean. "Then... you and my dad..."_

_A pang of regret went through Devi to think about it, but she pushed it down with more resolve than she'd felt starting this conversation. "We got carried away." She could almost convince herself that she meant it. "After a kill, too much to drink, celebrating, it happens. We've got to work together." She gave Chuck a pointed look. "Though bear in mind, I'm not a nun and your dad's not a monk." She smirked at the strangled noise the kid made and how red his ears suddenly were. "That's asking too much of him_ and _me."_

_"Wasn't expecting anything like that," Chuck muttered. But he let her pull him to his feet and went with her back to the resort to have dinner._

Suze sprawled on the sand and looked up at the sky. So that was it. Had Herc picked it up in the ghost drift from Chuck? Maybe not in this semi-voyeuristic clarity, but he'd probably caught the gist of it. It was Devi's decision, she reminded herself. Devi _or_ Herc could have made the call not to continue the chase. Herc had been ready to hold out, to tell Chuck to deal with it like a grown up and get over it... but Devi wasn't.

Suze being cross towards Chuck would only irritate Devi, so Suze tried not to be. The look on Chuck's face when Suze arrived at the dinner buffet didn't help; he reminded her of a dog caught chewing someone's shoes.

_Stop cringing at me, you little brat. I still love you._ She remembered what Danny Oliver had used to say when the boys fought, what Chuck had blurted out the night he got drunk after the confrontation over the Academy application. Devi'd been right in what she told him today. _You may be a selfish little shit, but none of us could live without you._

_He's eighteen. He's allowed to be selfish once in awhile,_ Devi informed her through the ghost drift, leaping to Chuck's defense.

Suze looked down the table at her sister and rolled her eyes. _And you're thirty with a martyr complex the size of Mauna Kea. You and Herc are allowed to have an adult relationship._ But she knew Devi was resolved, so she dropped the subject.

Kyrra hadn't been a ghost drift eyewitness to any of today's awkward conversations, but she quickly worked out what had happened when Devi and Herc had what was clearly an awkward conversation off on the edge of one of the pool decks, then went in different directions. "I guess that means no go." Suze shook her head and threw herself onto the sand with a dramatic sigh. "It'll get easier when we're all back at the Dome in a normal routine. At least they finally talked it out."

"Yeah." Suze avoided her girlfriend's gaze, but Kyrra was onto her.

"It was up to them, love. Either one of them had the right to take it further _or_ lower the boom."

"I know." _Am I allowed to be disappointed that this wasn't the way I'd wanted it to end? Or…_ maybe this was just the part of Suze that was tapped into Devi's emotions, feeling the sting. It'd been Devi's decision to give up the chase… but Suze of all people knew that just because Devi decided something wasn't a good idea didn't mean she wouldn't wish things were different.

"Sometimes it just doesn't work out. Our world's a bloody complicated place. More than ever, especially for Rangers. And few more than _that_ pair. Life's even less normal for them than it is for us," said Kyrra.

* * *

_October 25, 2021…  
Sydney Shatterdome…_

If people were tense and edgy upon the return to Sydney, Chuck ignored the occasional glare that Team Vulcan cast at him. Even more the little splinters of resentment that came through the ghost drift from his old man.

_Unlike you, she actually gave a damn what I thought, so I told her the truth. Maybe now you can find someone your own age if it's that important to get laid._

Contrary to what he'd heard some of the personnel whisper when they didn't think he was in earshot, Chuck didn't expect his father to be a monk. Herc hadn't been near a woman since Mum died; Chuck wasn't stupid enough to expect him to be the celibate widower forever (as much as he'd rather not know either way, drifting didn't allow for willful ignorance of embarrassing details.)

Things were a bit awkward at first. Well, they'd all just have to get over it and move on. Chuck was all too ready to do that, despite being by far the youngest.

At least they had the distraction of the post-engagement investigation. The tacticians, K-Watch, J-Techs, and all the rest of the crew had to pick apart the fight second by second, identify everything that had gone right, wrong, or any combination of the two, figure out what was new and what was outdated. J-Tech and Senior Engineering were especially focused on this fight, since it was the first for a newly-launched Jaeger _and_ the Mark-5 line. (Even if there wasn't a "line" beyond Striker yet.)

There were long teleconferences between Nagasaki, Sydney, Hawaii, and the Assembly sites for both Jaegers, and while Chuck's backside was sore from sitting in a chair for hours, the whole thing wasn't as godawful boring as he expected it to be.

"You sustained far less hull damage than expected," said Priya Katwal, once the J-Techs had climbed up and down Striker's entire superstructure with high-definition scanners and cameras, documenting every inch of his hull so a hologram could be produced showing every dent and scratch from the fight.

Dr. Katwal was head of the Mark-5 Initial Combat Review project. Most people were impressed by her; she was ranked only by Jasper Schoenfeld himself, and she was designer of nearly every conn-pod in existence. Of bloody course, Marshal Ketteridge was constantly wanting updates from Schoenfeld. He also clearly didn't think much of Dr. Lea Franklin, Katwal's second-in-command for this review.

If Chuck and Herc were a little unnerved by Franklin, well, at least they had a good reason. Both of them carried the drift memories that had triggered the disaster in Manila: Scott looming over a small, vulnerable looking girl in Gipsy Danger's jacket. He fortunately hadn't had the guts to mess with a PPDC officer beyond his usual slime-and-leer, but the drift had told Herc all too well what Scott had _wanted_ to do.

Of the former Gipsy Danger crew who had been in Manila, few knew the role Franklin had unwittingly played, but to Chuck and Herc's shared relief, nobody said a word. Tendo was all casual cheer when he introduced them, and the Hansens were grateful for it.

Chuck had to admit he was thrown by the idea that a child-sized twenty-two-year-old had made it past the first cut at the Academy, let alone got a doctorate in Electrical Engineering, but Tendo just laughed at the look on his face. "Little Lea gets that a lot. Don't underestimate her, boyo."

Devi, Susanti, and Indra invited Lea to spar in the Kwoon with them, and Chuck saw that Tendo's assessment was accurate. A lot of the J-Techs went easy on the physical drilling once they were out of contention to be pilots, and commanding officers didn't care much, but Lea still knew her Bushido. She didn't win any matches against the Rangers, but could still beat Tendo and Indra. (She blushed and demurred when one of Vulcan's crew suggested she attempt the Ranger-carrying challenge.)

To Chuck's intense relief, Striker came through with a mostly-clean bill of health. "The joint shields performed beautifully," Lea told them during the final review. Her shyness in social settings disappeared altogether when she was talking about schematics on the holoprojector. She re-played several shots of Ceramander body-slamming them or slapping its limbs against theirs. "Blows like this have taken earlier models out of commission for months or years. All your hydraulic lines and muscle strands stayed intact after eight hours of close-quarters combat."

The engineers from Brisbane were delighted, but Ketteridge was impatient. "So when can he return to active duty?"

"If the rest of the system diagnostics come back clean, by the end of the week," said Priya. She gave Ketteridge a thin smile. "You'll just have to make do with the most successful Jaeger on Earth for a few more days."

Chuck wasn't sure whether the surge of delight at Priya's sly jab was from his own head or his old man - but they both had to stifle snorts of laughter.

* * *

_November 2021…_

After Ceramander came the next attempt at an offensive. Striker Eureka's combat performance had a number of countries reconsidering their budgets, imagining a Mark-5 protecting their vulnerable borders. But the price tag remained extreme for an individual nation, even the wealthiest ones, and the diplomatic complications numerous if more than one nation were to pool their funds. To Stacker Pentecost's disappointment, so far, none of the negotiations had borne fruit.

What the member countries did agree on was the cost of a precision assault on the Breach: a nuclear depth charge, nearly half a megaton, to be lowered directly into it by a sophisticated automated system that would only arm the device after it was _below_ the sea floor.

_"We've developed releases like this before_ ," Geophysicist Vanessa Gottlieb briefed the task force. _"It's the same trigger system that allowed us to release the Dante Explorer probes into the Yellowstone magma chamber. With each new event, K-Science has taken readings on the electromagnetic signals coming from the Breach. The deployment line will keep the payload from impacting the walls or the sea floor - and even if the line is severed, it won't detonate."_

_"But are we certain this thing is going to go through the Breach?"_ demanded Representative Taylor from the US.

" _Of course, we're not certain_ ," she replied, so quickly and matter-of-factly that there were murmurs from the listeners. " _Certainty is for charlatans. You asked for a device that would deliver your payload into the mouth of the Breach at a decreased risk of impacting on the sea floor or the upper walls. A depth charge and anchor line will eliminate most of the variables, but the forces within the Breach itself remain largely unknown_."

"What sort of forces could affect the payload?" asked Caitlin from next to Stacker.

" _Gravity, for one. Make no mistake, Doctor. The Breach is a doorway to another world, very possibly another dimension. The electromagnetic signals that emit from it when a kaiju emerges indicate a weaker gravitational pull than Earth - which is one possible explanation of how these enormous creatures keep moving through it so easily. It could function as a whirlpool from their environment to ours. Charged particles and byproducts of extreme electromagnetic forces and chemical reactions more deadly than anything found on this planet have been detected - which would also explain why the kaiju can withstand a nuclear explosion_."

" _Anyone would think those things had been designed by Satan_ ," said Marshall Quijano from Panama City.

Dr. Gottlieb smirked to someone off camera, and a male voice remarked, " _That is one of the more outlandish theories being explored by some of our more eccentric personnel._ "

" _Hey, I heard that, and it's a_ valid _theory, Hermann!_ " someone squawked on the line from one of the other K-Science labs.

Stacker said quickly, "Can we return to the subject, Dr. Gottlieb?"

" _Which Gottlieb_?" someone quipped.

" _Whichever one can explain the likelihood that this thing actually works - certainty aside_ ," said Marshall Morais from Lima.

Vanessa Gottlieb smiled and stepped aside. " _That would be your numbers expert_."

Hermann Gottlieb stepped into the frame. " _Dr. Gottlieb has accounted for as many variables on this planet as is feasible,_ " he informed the watchers, gesturing slightly towards his wife. " _The launch will occur at the four-week point, increasing the probability that the Breach will be open. The greatest variable is whatever force allows the kaiju to pass through. If it is indeed a gravity differential, it may resist our efforts to move any object in the opposite direction through the throat. The closer the payload is to the Breach, the less signal we will have, and the less control we will have over its guidance systems. We can safely assume that if it enters the Breach, there will be little if no remote guidance remaining_."

"So unless we've got a few volunteers for a suicide mission, it's a Hail Mary pass," remarked Jasper Schoenfeld.

" _And we can safely expect the detonation to destroy the majority of our monitoring equipment at the site_ ," Vanessa Gottlieb warned. " _Which means that if the attack fails, there will be no warning of the next kaiju until K-Watch is able to replace the monitors_."

" _Wonderful_." Representative Taylor and Secretary General Krieger exchanged glances. " _That wall is looking better and better_."

"Or we go back to the drawing board, since a wall will be even less effective than conventional weapons," Caitlin retorted.

Hermann Gottlieb snorted. " _I quite agree with Dr. Lightcap. There is no human-manufactured material that will withstand a sustained kaiju attack_."

The predictions of both Gottliebs were sound. Signal from the payload decreased the closer it came to the Breach, but it did descend far enough for the bomb to be armed. Detonation was anticlimactic, since all of the monitors and transmitters were indeed obliterated by the blast. Since the last readings indicated the payload had been well into the mouth of the Breach, Stacker and the other observers were hopeful... but Vanessa Gottlieb, to their surprise, was the first to deem the mission a failure.

" _The readings of the shock waves are too large. I don't believe the payload entered the Breach itself. The explosion occurred entirely on this side, in this world_."

" _So you don't think it reached depth?_ " asked Secretary General Krieger.

" _No, the payload did reach depth. It was well past the detonation depth threshold - the trigger worked precisely as we intended. But something caused the blast force to rebound entirely. I think it's very unlikely that any kaiju on the other side of the Breach even knew anything was amiss_."

" _Remind me again why we put a vital offensive in the hands of some egghead's trophy wife?"_ muttered one of the Americans, accidentally (or not) leaving his microphone on.

Plenty of the participants, both male and female, glowered, among them Hermann Gottlieb, though Vanessa Gottlieb didn't even blink. "You put in the hands of the most qualified person in K-Science," Caitlin snapped. "She warned you from Day One that there were flaws inherent in remote delivery."

That surprised Stacker, because Caitlin was always the first to shoot down any proposal of non-remote delivery. She considered nothing worth a suicide mission, and like the Gottliebs and (fortunately) a small majority of the decision-makers, that the answer to closing the Breach lay in the realm of calculation and precision and further study.

"When can we be certain of the result of this mission?" asked Jasper Schoenfeld.

Dr. Gottlieb smiled grimly. " _Just as with all the previous ones. When the next kaiju arrives._ "

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** The results of this latest attack on the Breach are revealed, and the Jaeger Program faces another tough test, which is witnessed from a certain teenaged bystander with Ranger dreams of her own. Mako Mori is in the house in **Chapter Thirty-Seven: The View From The Gallery!**_
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Marshal Blake Ketteridge: Commanding Officer of Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force.
> 
> Kyrra Taior: Chief Engineer for Lucky Seven, then Striker Eureka. Aboriginal, Herc's age. Youngest and sole surviving daughter of Marian Taior, an elderly aboriginal woman who occasionally looked after Chuck when he was younger.
> 
> Erin Price Riley: One of Vulcan Specter's spotter pilots, age 28, African-American from Chicago, Illinois, married to an Australian engineer, Callum Riley.
> 
> Christian Warner: Former Gipsy Danger drivesuit technician, age 30ish, African-American from Atlanta, GA, attended Academy with Beckets and his sister, Chloe. After Yancy Becket's death, he transferred to K-Watch with Chloe permanently, unable to work on another Jaeger crew.
> 
> Chloe Warner: K-Watch worker in Honolulu, transferred after she and her brother Christian failed to become Rangers at Academy. Late 20s.
> 
> Dr. Lea Franklin - age 22, lived in San Jose, California. Sole survivor of K-Day out of her family because she was traveling abroad with a school group. Extremely gifted, but has intense social anxiety due to PTSD. Attended the Jaeger Academy with the Beckets and Tendo Choi in 2016 and became a J-Tech Engineer.
> 
> Dr. Priya Katwal: J-Tech senior Engineer, formerly NASA, now designs conn-pod support systems, Indian, late 50s.


	37. The View From The Gallery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The results of the latest attack on the Breach are revealed, and the Jaeger Program faces another tough test when the largest kaiju yet attacks Panama Canal! 16-year-old Mako watches the engagement from a distance and ponders the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** _ _A thousand thanks to my readers for the long wait you've endured! I can't promise that updates will resume as frequently as they were before, but I'm several chapters ahead again. This chapter is a tie-in to the last two chapters of_ _ Tales From The Front Lines _ _, which told of Mako's adventures in boarding school. They're not required reading, but useful for context. This fic headcanon has Mako graduating high school at age 16 in late 2021 (I rather suspect she'd be very advanced for her age if her accomplishments at the time of the movie are any indication.)_

**Chapter Thirty-Seven: The View from the Gallery**

_November 17, 2021..._

Vanessa Gottlieb was right. K-Watch still hadn't replaced its equipment, so a network of submarines and mobile sonar stations that moved in to surround the Breach. They sounded the next warning: a Category III kaiju was moving due north from the Breach site.

It was smaller than the last few, if still more than big enough to take out two of the subs and a number of oil platforms without even slowing down. Tizheruk's path took it away from the blast radius of the failed attack and into the more heavily monitored, relatively shallow shelf off Japan and the Okhotsk Sea. He skirted the Japanese coast without attacking, much to the relief of Admiral Yamamoto and Colonel Okita. The Jaegers deployed in pairs, spreading out along the population centers, and in the end, Shaolin Rogue and Bering Tigress took it down as it attempted to cross the half-built Siberian Wall in the Kuril Islands.

* * *

_December 25, 2021…_

The highest-stakes test yet came on Christmas Day, 2021. The Breach monitors had been replaced, but the web of detectors spreading out from the Breach itself was still under construction, and once a month had passed since the last attack, the crews pulled out.

Some of the UN even grumbled at that, wanting the work to continue, but K-Watch's Major Bingham retorted, " _It is highly specialized work for a submarine construction crew to install this equipment. Since the K-Watch Breach Monitor system began, we have lost dozens of workers, and if the rate of attacks continues to accelerate, the safety margin will decrease. Even if you're not moved by the deaths of these men and women, consider that replacing their skills will be increasingly difficult if the oceanic engineers of the world get the impression that accepting these jobs is accepting a suicide mission._ "

So K-Watch knew when the biggest Category IV yet emerged from the Breach itself - but as luck would have it, the monster charged to the east and vanished from the monitors.

Tamsin sent Stacker a private e-mail the minute K-Watch declared the direction. _I pulled a few strings and got the girls on the first plane to the US. They will land in Nevada, and Liling's mother will get them back to Pennsylvania. Mako actually made some noise about staying, but General Liang already called to insist that Liling leave Hawaii immediately._

Stacker wasn't surprised, but he was relieved. Mako and her best friend from school had been in Hawaii with Tamsin for the holidays, but now with an event under way, all of K-Watch would be on duty, and Tam would need to go to work. Those civilians who couldn't evacuate would _probably_ be safe enough up in the Hawaiian mountains, especially in K-Watch's family housing on the Big Island, but given the size of this kaiju... Stacker would just as soon cut the holiday short and send the girls back to the mainland now.

Far, far away from anywhere this attacker could reach. _How soon do they leave?_

_They just took off. I saw them to Hilo myself. Heading back to base._

She forwarded him the plane's information, and Stacker checked it himself, breathing a sigh of relief knowing the girls were airborne and away. He sent a message to General Liang himself, bending the rules to use the official PPDC email to ensure it would go through. Electronic communication traffic - as well as air traffic - always jammed and clogged when a kaiju was on the hunt.

_The girls are on American Flight 1701 to Las Vegas. They have already left and will land in six hours. Liling's mother will meet them at the Las Vegas airport._

Liang's short response spoke volumes: _Thank you, Stacker._

He was as formal a man as Stacker himself, especially on official channels, and he and Stacker had been barely getting on since the Shaolin Rogue incident a year ago. But when it came to looking after their family - Stacker's daughter and He Liang's granddaughter - they were unbreakable and permanent allies.

He dashed off an email to Mako. _I am glad that Tamsin got you both safely on your way home. Stay in touch with Mrs. Gáo if you land before she reaches the airport, and I'll join you as soon as the engagement is over._

Not that Mako needed reminding on instructing, having just obtained her high school degree nearly two years ahead of most students, and almost always firmly meticulous in following direction - especially during alerts. But it would ease her mind to know that Stacker was thinking of her even now.

The trio of Cherno Alpha, Shaolin Rogue, and Nova Hyperion were rushed to Hawaii, and the Western Rangers scrambled every Jaeger available. Crimson Typhoon had been cleared to resume combat only ten days ago. _"If we re-form the A-Team, that's another experienced trio to put in front of this bogey,_ " said one of the Tacticians.

_"How many simulations have you done since returning to duty?"_ Stacker asked.

The Wei triplets were calm on the vid comm, none showing any sign of the injuries they'd sustained eight months ago. _"Only one with the team,_ " said Hu. _"The score was ninety-three. We have done two partner simulations with Coyote Tango separately, and eleven with others. We are comfortable with reforming if Vulcan and Coyote are also._ "

_"Absolutely no qualms here,_ " said Gunnar Tunari. _"We're ready to roll._ "

" _But that leaves Striker Eureka without a partner,_ " said Marshal Ketteridge. " _I was going to suggest moving Striker into the A-Team._ "

In Sydney's war room, everyone looked up, and Stacker saw scowls on many faces, including the Hassans, Herc Hansen, and most of the crew. Most (but not Herc) hid their disgust when Ketteridge looked over his shoulder. Admiral Yamamoto wisely kept the discussion on more objective details. _"But I see that Striker Eureka has not had any triple simulations with Crimson Typhoon. It would not be wise to deploy an untrained team against the largest kaiju yet - not to say that you are in any way lacking in ability, Rangers Hansen._ "

Chuck had looked hopeful, but couldn't miss the resistance of his fellows or his crew, so he dropped his eyes and shrugged.

"I'll run Chrome Brutus to Los Angeles," said Stacker, motioning to the crew in question. Flint and Amarok stood and exchanged looks with the Gage twins. Stacker considered the map and addressed Panama City's Marshal Quijano. "Where do you want to deploy D-Team?" The Western Hemisphere's best trio would go to the next most sensitive target.

" _If the bogey bypasses Hawaii, are you expecting him to head north or south?"_ Quijano asked K-Watch.

" _South, but not far._ " K-Watch's cone projection appeared on the map. " _Put the red alert on the coast from Los Angeles to Guayaquil, Ecuador. Orange alert as far as far south as Lima, as far north as San Francisco."_ Major Bingham stepped into view and gestured to Marshal Quijano. _"The conditions are very good for an approach to Panama. I recommend you have a team waiting there._ "

Quijano nodded. " _Give me Romeo Blue and Matador Fury. I'll send Puma Real to Acapulco and Rio Sentry to Guayaquil._ "

"Done." Team Romeo and Team Chrome bolted for the doors, and Stacker told his remaining crew, "For now I want Cascade Victor to remain here. Once we're certain this target will not be heading north, I'll deploy you."

"Understood, sir." Cascade Victor's crew, the Girard cousins, were disappointed, but took it with more grace than Chuck Hansen was taking Striker Eureka being held back. Admiral Yamamoto was dispatching Tacit Ronin to join Striker Eureka in the southern portion of Micronesia, just in case the kaiju veered, but although none of the spotters had him pinpointed, K-Watch was convinced he was heading due east. The reformed A-Team, Crimson Typhoon, Vulcan Specter, and Coyote Tango, were being posted further north, on Majuro in the Marshall Islands.

When a submarine crew picked up the monster's echo noise and sonar signature in deep, murky water east of the Marshall Islands, K-Watch codenamed it Screed. _"He's not making much effort to hide his tracks,_ " reported K-Watch.

* * *

_December 28, 2021…_

Passed by (much to the relief of Micronesia), the A-Team relocated to Kiribati, a thousand miles or so due south of Hawaii, and the two trios waited to see whether Screed would head for the islands or move on towards the Americas. After thirty-six tense hours, in which Jaeger crews and K-Watchers slept badly through their rest shifts, the echo sounder network in the broad expanse of ocean between Polynesia and the Americas began getting pings.

_"He's passed through the Polynesian channel, still moving east-southeast. Hawaii and Polynesia can stand down."_ K-Watch narrowed the alert zone to Central America, Colombia, and Ecuador. _"If he hits Galapagos, he'll have a direct runoff trail straight back to the Panama Canal._ "

The Mexican government was complaining about Matador Fury being deployed to Panama instead of their own shores. _"Tell them to go to hell!"_ snapped an increasingly-frazzled Marshal Quijano. " _Matador is part of the strongest Western trio. I need them here. We have the E-Team in Acapulco, and they're more than competent if the bogey even runs that far north._ "

_"I am putting Cherno, Nova, and Shaolin in Quepos, Costa Rica_ ," announced Colonel Rabinov. _"If target approaches the Gulf of Panama, I will relocate them closer._ "

_"Do you have any idea the damage a kaiju that size will do if it reaches the canal?"_ Quijano hissed. _"If it even gets anywhere near us?_ "

" _And_ Marshal Quijano has a meltdown before the kaiju even gets there," muttered Sergio D'onofrio.

Caitlin cuffed him on the shoulder. "Be nice. And she's not wrong. If the team can't make the intercept well out in the gulf, the infrastructure damage from a fight in the shallows will be catastrophic, to say nothing of the Kaiju Blue contamination in the world's busiest shipping lane."

Stacker nodded and contacted Marshal Morais in Lima and Marshal Ramirez in Los Angeles. "This is the most critical port under our defense. I think the situation merits more back-up in the Gulf of Panama, as far from the canal as the Jaegers can safely stand."

_"Once he's parallel to Nicaragua, I'll send Chrome Brutus and Yankee Star_ ," said Marshal Ramirez. " _In fact... strike that, I'll send Yankee Star now. She and Diablo Intercept are our long distance shooters. We should have them on site._ "

"Agreed."

Solar Prophet and Amazon Delta went from Lima up to Acapulco to form up the E-Team with Puma Real. With Diablo Intercept in Panama, that left Lima open, so Crimson Typhoon, Vulcan Specter, and Coyote Tango headed there from French Polynesia to hold down the fort.

Stacker took a deep breath as he considered the red bogey blip turning ever-so-gradually more to the south, following the path K-Watch had predicted, ever closer to Panama. It would probably still be at least a day before landfall, but multiple Jaeger teams were already on the ground and prepared for deployment. The largest cities in the alert zones would have triple teams on-site. The sharpshooters were being stationed on the islands, Taboga and Taboguilla, eight miles from the canal, ready to bombard Screed before it even hit the miracle mile. Behind them, Matador, Romeo, and Hydra were waiting to defend the canal.

"We're as ready as we've ever been."

_This is as ready as we'll ever be. What if it's not enough?_

* * *

_Las Vegas International Airport…  
December 29, 2021…_

_"_ _This is the kind of defense humanity needs!_ " a CNN commentator declared. " _Active defense up and down the coasts by the most powerful and intelligent weapons in existence while first responders in the vulnerable cities work on evacuating the population and getting them to shelter. No wall is going to substitute for this!"_

"They're right about that," muttered an American man in the crowd around Mako and Liling, watching the reports in the airport.

Tamsin had sent Mako and Liling out of Hawaii at once when it looked as if Screed was heading towards the islands. They had flown unchaperoned to Las Vegas, and Liling's mother would meet them there to make their way back to Pennsylvania. But as always during a kaiju alert, air traffic was soon a snarled mess throughout both hemispheres as flights were canceled, rerouted, and diverted to accommodate frantic evacuations and rushed movement of emergency personnel to their posts.

Even far inland beyond the reach of any kaiju, travel became difficult. Road traffic was sluggish, and Mrs. Gáo was still several hours from the airport, driving south from Salt Lake City. Mako and Liling gathered with the other stranded travelers in the airport terminal, waiting for space on a flight to open, and watching the reports from the Central American coast.

Until this year, Mako's chaperones and teachers – and Sensei – had insisted that she turn off the television and the Internet when an engagement was being broadcast. " _You will have more nightmares_ ," Dr. Schneider and the other therapists from Mako's school told her.

Mako knew they were right. Even without watching the videos, the kaiju that followed Onibaba also found their way into her dreams, into the shadows of her room at night, and into the corners of her eyes when she traveled city streets. When she smelled smoke or heard car alarms or sirens, wherever she was, it wasn't only Onibaba that stalked her.

But now she was finished with school. Sensei had promised that she could apply to the Jaeger Academy when she would be of age at graduation – Class 2023-A, eighteen months from now. She had studied with a single-minded focus on preparation for the screening tests and the first cut.

So today, when Dr. Schneider urged her via Skype to go to the part of the terminal where the broadcasts from Panama City weren't playing, Mako refused. "I want to see."

Dr. Schneider hesitated, as did Liling. Liling had watched attack tapes before, once she started doing research projects on K-Science for her advanced biology courses, but Mako had never resisted until now when the teachers and therapists wanted her away from the footage of the attacks.

But to Mako's relief, her longtime therapist didn't stand firm. " _Are you certain? Attack broadcasts can be very triggering._ "

Mako nodded. "I will go to the Jaeger Academy in less than two years. I must start facing reality now so I will be ready."

Slowly, Dr. Schneider nodded, and at Mako's side, Liling nodded too. If Mako found herself unable to go on looking at the televisions, she could always walk away.

As K-Watch had predicted, Screed was making straight for the Gulf of Panama. Flocks of news and military helicopters were hovering on the approach to the canal as military boats and barges swarmed the shipping traffic, trying to get as many people and vessels to safety as they could. But the kaiju was speeding up.

_If I am to be a pilot, I'll have to listen to the emergency channels during an engagement. I'll have to hear what the Rangers do and say, even if the fight goes badly,_ Mako thought. It was unnerving enough hearing the chatter and speculation of the reporters on the television.

Mrs. Gáo arrived shortly before the Jaegers were expected to make intercept, but there were still no open flights for Mako and Liling to take back to Pennsylvania. Liling could have gone somewhere else in the airport at that point. She and Mako had realized years ago that her severe asthma would keep her from passing the strict physical requirements for Jaeger pilots at the Academy. But she held out hope of working in K-Science, even though Reckoner had left her with similar nightmares to the ones that plagued Mako. So she stayed with Mako in front of one of the airport's televisions.

The crowded airport terminal grew very quiet even with people packed shoulder-to-shoulder as the reporters breathlessly zoomed in on a huge disturbance in the water of the Gulf of Panama. It was moving steadily towards the mouth of the canal and its heavily-populated coastline.

" _No less than_ five _Jaegers are guarding the entrance to the canal. Pan to your left… on Taboguilla Island, there's Yankee Star, the sharpshooter Jaeger who has helped kill two kaiju and repelled two more. Next to her is Diablo Intercept. This island is about ten miles off the entrance to the Panama Canal, and the two Jaegers are waiting on the northeast shore as Screed passes to try and drive him back."_

_"_ _What happens if they miss?"_

_"_ _Off Port Amador, we've got three more Jaegers spread out in the shallows to try and stop Screed from actually entering the Panama Canal. You can see them now: Romeo Blue and Matador Fury with Hydra Corinthian just a little in front and between them – WHOA!"_

The onlookers around Mako shouted in chorus with the reporters as Yankee Star opened fire. Water erupted into the air, and Liling grabbed Mako's hand. The largest kaiju either of them had ever seen or imagined surfaced, roaring so loudly that the audio of the television buzzed.

It was chaos from then on, with the reporters only able to babble out what they could see. The red lights of Yankee Star's lasers were barely visible in the froth and smoke from her missiles. Screed seemed to be in no hurry to close with her…but it was retreating straight towards the canal.

" _Diablo Intercept and Yankee Star are giving chase, firing on the kaiju, but he's moving northeast! The pilots of the other three Jaegers know they have to stop him; Matador Fury is advancing, looks like he's arming one of his spears, there it goes!"_

Even in tight quarters with five Jaegers closing in, the shots that missed the kaiju also missed the other mechs. Mako found herself clutching Liling, and the two girls barely managed not to shriek in horror as Screed wrenched away from Diablo Intercept's snare and lunged towards the other three Jaegers.

Diablo Intercept and Yankee Star suddenly broke off their pursuit and dropped like marionettes whose strings had been cut. The spectators gasped and shouted in alarm, but Mako had already worked out why the Jaegers had dropped: to keep them out of Hydra Corinthian's line of fire.

The view from the helicopter-borne cameras wobbled wildly as the chopper pilots suddenly veered away, and again, the sound from the speakers was just a painful buzz. But when the image steadied, Screed was reeling back, flailing his massive upper limbs as kaiju blue sprayed.

" _I didn't actually see anything, but it looks like one hell of a hit!_ "

Mako had all the Jaegers' principal weapons memorized. Hydra Corinthian packed a pressure pulse cannon, the most powerful non-incendiary weapon that J-Tech Munitions had ever created. It could level buildings in its path for nearly a mile and shatter windows for a wide radius. The hovering helicopters had to veer off in a hurry to get out of the damage zone. In controlled settings, it was only barely visible, the ripple in the air like steam. In the froth and smoke of the battle, nobody could see that it had fired at all, but for the reaction of the kaiju.

Matador Fury followed up with another of his sizzling bullfighter spears. Loaded with blue-neutralizing acid _and_ incendiary charges, they buried themselves deep in the kaiju's torso to create scalding, venomous wounds. Mako growled approval as Screed recoiled again, clawing at the shaft in vain.

Yankee Star and Diablo Intercept were plunging through the reasonably-shallow water of Panama Bay, closing in, when the monster rallied and unleashed its counter-attack. People shouted and screamed as Screed plowed through the water, its roar buffeting the helicopters, and Liling stifled a cry as Hydra Corinthian went staggering back.

" _She's hit! Hydra Corinthian is hit!_ "

Mako didn't see the blow, but the Mark-4 fell heavily to one side. If there had been fewer fellow Jaegers close at hand, Screed might have reached her, but Romeo Blue and Matador Fury were already charging, and Romeo slammed his bulk into the kaiju's.

Diablo Intercept unfurled his famous Devil's Lash and wrapped it around one of Screed's arms, hauling him back. But the kaiju used its free arm to inflict some brutal punishment on Romeo Blue, pummeling the Mark-1 until another of Matador Fury's spears landed right in the kaiju's throat.

Now the kaiju fell, and Romeo retreated while the three undamaged Jaegers pressed their advantage. Yankee Star stayed just outside the range of the monster's flailing limbs, her shells and lasers striking precision shots even as Matador Fury and Diablo Intercept moved in. Another salvo from Yankee Star bombarded Screed right in the face, and Matador unsheathed one of his titanium swords, to the gasps of the people in the terminal around Mako.

Then the crowd bellowed excitedly as Matador slashed into the kaiju's upper arm, disabling the one that Diablo Intercept had caught. Screed flailed at them with his free arm, only for Diablo to suddenly release the damaged arm and snare the good arm with his second lash so Matador could go to work on that one.

_"_ _I think they've got him! I think they're winning!"_ cried a watching reporter.

They were definitely winning. Mako was breathing hard, but with something like glee as Matador's sword cut straight through Screed's upper arm and all the kaiju could do was writhe. Yankee Star closed in and ripped out one of the bullfighter spears, then fired her lasers at closer and closer range into the kaiju's face, putting out at least three of its four eyes. Finally, Matador sheathed his beautiful swords and brought out his three remaining spears, one after the other, one into Screed's head between the eyes, the second into its throat, and the third straight into its mouth.

At last, the monster lay motionless between the three Jaegers. They circled it warily, their weapons still brought to bear, but amid the chatter of the reporters, voices began to shout: _"That's confirmed! The PPDC has confirmation, the kaiju Screed is destroyed!_ "

And the Las Vegas International Airport terminal erupted into cheers, and Mako and Liling were jumping up and down, arms still wrapped around each other. They let go only long enough to fling themselves at Liling's mother, who laughed as she embraced them. Random strangers, Americans, Europeans, Africans, Japanese, Chinese, Latin-Americans, all gathered here in this airport applauded and shouted with joy in all their languages.

People finally hissed for quiet enough to stifle the celebrations as the cameras turned to Hydra Corinthian and Romeo Blue. Both Jaegers were upright, and the reporters announced breathlessly, " _We have good word on the American Rangers. The PPDC is reporting injuries, but says all four pilots are conscious and communicating with their spotters._ "

Exclamations of "thank God!" rang out, and people breathed sighs and prayers of relief and gratitude.

The fight with Screed itself hadn't been as terrifying to Mako as she'd half-expected, but now, for the first time since it began, she felt herself shiver.

Many pilots came through their fights "conscious and communicating." But that didn't necessarily mean they were unharmed. Mako of all people understood that.

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** _ _External pressure on the Jaeger Program is growing with frightening news from K-Science about the kaiju's changing abilities. But internal pressure poses an even greater threat when the next kaiju takes aim at Australia, and tensions between the crews and commander of Sydney Shatterdome come to a boil in_ _**Chapter Thirty-Eight: Spinejackal!** _
> 
> **PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Major James Bingham: head of K-Watch and PPDC Tactics, British Army, late 60s.
> 
> Liling Gáo: Mako's boarding school roommate and best friend, same age as Mako, born and raised in Hong Kong, China, granddaughter of General He Liang, who is commanding officer of the Hong Kong Shatterdome. Her family moved to the inland United States in 2016 after Reckoner attacked Hong Kong. Liling enrolled at Nittany Valley Preparatory Academy in Pennsylvania in spring 2017, and met Mako when Stacker Pentecost enrolled her in autumn 2017.
> 
> General He Liang: Commanding officer of Hong Kong Shatterdome, Chinese Army, mid-60s. He and Stacker Pentecost clashed when Stacker intervened on behalf of the pilots of Shaolin Rogue, but because Liang's granddaughter is close friends with Mako, the two men are irrevocably connected.
> 
> Marshal Columbina Quijano: Commanding officer of Panama City Shatterdome. Panamanian Public Forces officer, early 60s. Married to a Chinese national with one daughter and three grandchildren who also attended Nittany Valley Prep with Mako and Liling.
> 
> Dr. Tanja Schneider: Mako's therapist, British German, late 40s, hired by Stacker when he first adopted Mako, she traveled with Mako and remains in close contact with her.


	38. Spinejackal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> External pressure on the Jaeger Program is growing with frightening news from K-Science about the kaiju's changing abilities. But internal pressure poses an even greater threat when the next kaiju takes aim at Australia, and tensions between the crews and commander of Sydney Shatterdome come to a boil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** _ _Many thanks to all you readers for your continued feedback and patience!_

**Chapter Thirty-Eight: Spinejackal**

_Panama City Shatterdome…  
December 29, 2021…_

In the infirmary of Panama City Shatterdome, Andrés Alcazar and Daniel Moreno, pilots of Matador Fury, sat rotating shifts with the crews of Diablo Intercept and Yankee Star at the bedsides of their injured teammates. Stephanie Lanphier and Kennedy LaRue had ruptured eardrums, massive drivesuit burns, and contusions all over their bodies from the blast that had fried half of Hydra's systems. Bruce and Trevin Gage both had broken ribs and concussions from the beating they'd taken to drive Screed away from Hydra.

Stephanie and Kennedy were more uncomfortable than the twins; their burns were making it hard to keep the skin-to-skin contact that pilots craved after a fight. It was taking a lot of medic attention just to keep them calm.

"We can't use tranks to the degree we normally would, not with the eardrum injuries," one doctor explained.

" _Or_ concussions," mumbled Bruce Gage.

Andrés and Daniel were tag-teaming Stephanie and Kennedy to keep them from scratching at their burns or moving around too much when the crews PR representatives returned from the post-combat conference. Whenever Matador Fury had an engagement, their crew had a special diplomatic mission. Every time they partnered with a fellow Jaeger, that Jaeger's crew lent their own voice to the mission.

After the battle of Panama Bay, the PR representatives for all five Jaeger crews had gone, including Romeo Blue's esteemed Darrell Sullivan, and Yankee Star's Brady Harris. But Andrés and Daniel knew at once that despite the weight of political pressure and popular support, the result was unchanged.

"The Mexican Justice Department says your request for a pardon can't be granted at this time," sighed Darrell. "The Mexican Embassy rep did say that your service is being taken into account, and if you'll pilot Matador for another mission, they're willing to reconsider."

Yankee Star's Tanisha Davis gave a low growl under her breath. "Didn't they promise a pardon from day one?"

Darrell nodded. "When the Mexican personnel were accepted into the Jaeger Academy, all former prisoners were promised a pardon if they accepted a Ranger position. The Corps wheedled the same for their former prisoners who passed the first cut as long as they took crew positions – which they did."

Brady Harris drawled out the conclusion to a story they'd all heard after every engagement since Matador had launched in late 2017: "Then they said if Matador repelled a kaiju, they'd pardon the crew. Then it was if they killed a kaiju. Now it's 'just one more time.'"

Kennedy sat up gingerly. "You think they'll ever say yes?"

"Not until we have replacements. Qualified, natural-born Mexican pilots out of the Academy," Daniel told her. He almost managed to keep the bitterness out of his voice. It wasn't that he or his partner regretted their lives as Rangers, far from it. But injustice would never fail to rankle.

"Have any more Mexicans made the first cut at the Academy this year?"

"No. And even if they do, the Justice Department will protest. They will want us to stay as the experienced team."

_They will let us go when we can no longer pilot. Or when we're dead. Not before._

* * *

_December 31, 2021…_

The Jaeger Program's supporters hailed the battle of Panama Bay as a validating victory.

The detractors ranted that the cost was still two high: two Jaegers damaged and out of action, four pilots injured.

It could have been so much worse. It could have been so much better.

There was no question that Hydra and Romeo could be repaired and back in action in a matter of months. All four pilots had sustained injuries, from cracked ribs to severe internal bruising and concussions, but they too would make full recoveries.

What worried Stacker more was the report from K-Science that Screed had unleashed a percussive attack on Hydra Corinthian, one that was eerily similar to the one that Hydra herself had used against him and his predecessors.

" _Whatever mechanism he used was destroyed in the fight by those throat wounds_ ," Newton Geiszler reported. " _But Hydra wasn't just hit with a fist, she was hit with a blast, and it wasn't friendly fire from Yankee Star or Romeo Blue. It came from the kaiju!_ "

" _And what does that tell us?_ " Marshal Quijano asked impatiently.

" _Two possibilities. He could be a new species we've never seen before; some animals on Earth use sound and pressure as stunning weapons, so it is possible_."

"Or?" asked Stacker.

" _Or they're adapting to our own weaponry_."

Stacker noticed that instead of scoffing as he usually did at Geiszler's notions, even Hermann Gottlieb was looking grim. _God help us._

After the post-engagement teleconference had concluded, Stacker heard the report from Matador's crew on their appeal for clemency from the Mexican government. It didn't surprise him, but each successive one disappointed him. It wasn't the first time he'd been disappointed by the impact of politics on the Jaeger Program, and he knew it wouldn't be the last.

The next attack was proof of that.

* * *

_January 31, 2022…_

The Breach monitoring system had been severely damaged by the failed depth charge, and again by Screed's passage at Christmas. As a result, when Spinejackal emerged in January, K-Watch missed detection entirely. The first alert came when the kaiju surfaced to tear apart a fleet of cargo ships in the South Pacific.

The next sighting was bloody Fiji. One of the last remaining Pacific island paradises saw its tenure as a kaiju-free enclave come to an end as Spinejackal tore through its resorts and rainforests without even slowing down. Spinejackal was already laying waste to the capital city of Suva by the time the PPDC got the alert, and crossed over to the second-largest island in the archipelago to tear it apart for good measure.

There were two cyclones and multiple tropical disturbances in the southwestern Pacific, making it almost impossible for spotters to stay on the bogey once it left Fiji behind.

The holoconference of the commanding officers and K-Watch sounded even more panicked than usual. "Where the hell is it going? East or west?" Stacker demanded.

" _The spotters lost visual after he dove off the reef. Current is good for Australia, New Zealand, Tasmania_."

Marshall Ketteridge demanded that Japan send Tacit Ronin and Coyote Tango to join their partners in Sydney. " _We're going to be deploying from here, if at all. I can't leave Sydney undefended_."

China was arranging their teams in a perimeter north of Australia, but the cyclone activity was forcing the Japanese Jump Hawks to detour, adding at least two days of travel time.

So Sydney Shatterdome was alone with its two Jaegers when Spinejackal resurfaced in the Bass Strait, between Tasmania and Australia's southeast coast.

All hell broke loose. China scrambled to move Shaolin Rogue from New Guinea, hoping to bypass the bad weather by crossing the continent. Marshal Morais in Lima had dispatched Amazon Delta to Chile, and promptly ordered her to head across the South Pacific as fast as possible.

It wouldn't be fast enough. " _Target bearing north-northwest! At current speed, target will make landfall within three hours!_ "

" _Then he hits Port Phillip Bay and gets to make a buffet line out of five million people! I need fucking backup yesterday!_ " Marshal Ketteridge bellowed. " _Lift crews, ETA to Portsea!_ "

" _Two hours, sir! We can get there before he makes landfall; who do you want touching down first?_ "

" _Vulcan Specter_."

" _Copy that. Where do you want Striker Eureka?_ "

" _Striker's staying here_."

Despite the frenzy visible in Sydney's war room, crews and Rangers froze. In his war room in Anchorage, watching the action across the lake, Stacker and Caitlin Lightcap exchanged baffled looks. Who exactly was Ketteridge thinking would partner with Vulcan, if not Striker?

In Sydney, it was Chuck Hansen who found his voice first. " _Huh?_ "

Devi and Susanti Hassan stared at Ketteridge, then looked at each other. Their expressions hardened, but Devi muttered, " _Fine_ ," and they started for the doors.

Herc and Chuck and half of both crews came out of their seats. " _Wait just a bloody minute! No, Dev, hang on!_ "

" _You can't send them out without back-up!_ " Indra Hassan protested.

" _I'm not leaving Sydney completely exposed,"_ Ketteridge shot back. _"Shaolin Rogue is going straight to Melbourne to back them up_."

"Shaolin Rogue's at least twelve hours away from you, sir!" Caitlin protested. "Tactics directed no more solo engagements without back-up!"

" _It's only a Category III -_ "

" - _KNIFEHEAD was a fucking Category III, and this bastard's almost as big with twice the toxicity rating!_ " Indra shouted.

" _INDRA, that's enough!_ " Susanti yelled, but Herc slammed his chair into the table, beckoning to Chuck and his crew.

" _Striker Eureka, prepare for deployment. We're going_."

_Oh shit._ A lot of crew were going white even as Ketteridge was going red, but Stacker could see that most of them were starting to move towards the door. In Anchorage, the officers around him were muttering obscenities under their breath, and he had a feeling the same scene was playing out in the war room of every Shatterdome.

In Sydney, a mutiny was brewing. " _I...say... Striker Eureka stays in Sydney_ ," Ketteridge snarled.

" _Herc!_ " Devi exclaimed

" _Ranger Hansen!_ " one of the other Marshals snapped, but Herc might not have even heard.

" _He's setting them up_ ," Herc hissed. He looked directly at the holo camera. " _He means to kill them. Couldn't get rid of them any other way, so he'll have the kaiju do it._ "

Everyone started yelling at once. " _Of all the outrageous -_ "

"Rangers, Marshall," Stacker shouted. "ALL of you, get a grip - "

" _Dammit, Herc, we haven't got time for this!_ "

" _He's right! This is a set-up!_ "

" _Hansen, you'll be watching this engagement from the brig_."

" _And you'll go down for murder for them and every man, woman, and child who dies in Victoria_ ," Herc shot back.

" _For fuck's sake! Herc, stand down!_ " Susanti shouted, striding back to try to grab him, but he shook her off. " _We can hold the line for a few hours 'till Shaolin Rogue gets there!_ "

Stacker's mind raced and he shot a quick glance over his fellow commanders, all staring with equal shock and indignation at their screens. If both Herc and Ketteridge refused to yield, it would come down to whether the crews were willing to join Herc in insubordination. Knowing a Jaeger's crew... Stacker had a feeling he knew how that would shake out, especially considering the relative esteem of Hercules Hansen and Blake Ketteridge among the Sydney personnel.

And there was still a kaiju on its way to Port Phillip Bay and multiple major cities.

"Enough!" he stood up and leaned towards the holo screen for good measure. "Marshal Ketteridge, if you'll send Striker Eureka with Vulcan Specter, I will personally guarantee that you have at least two active Jaegers remaining at your Dome after the engagement. If necessary, I'll assign you one from Anchorage."

" _Agreed!_ " Marshal Ramirez from Los Angeles stood. " _If Vulcan or Striker are damaged, I'll give you one of mine, but we have two deployment ready Jaegers in Sydney. If a solo Jaeger has trouble, we're risking millions of lives without need_."

" _No more Jaegers should go without backup unless there's no choice!_ " one of the Tacticians put in.

Ketteridge hesitate, his eyes darting from the screen to the side where Stacker knew Herc was standing, ready to push the issue. But then, he took a step back. " _Fine. I'll deploy Striker_." To Herc, he added, " _And I'll deal with you after._ "

Herc just turned his back and stalked for the door, an ashen-faced Chuck at his heels. To Stacker's further dismay, the Hassans looked angrier at Herc than at Ketteridge.

He and Caitlin Lightcap put in a private call to Marshal Ramirez once the Jaegers were in transit. " _Looking for ideas on how to keep Blake from putting Herc up against a wall when this is over?"_ Ramirez said dryly.

"You're assuming there'll be anything left of him once Devi and Suze are through," Caitlin sighed. They all fell silent, avoiding each other's eyes. Finally, Cait spoke up again. "Well, I'll say it if nobody else will: I'm not sure I think Herc was wrong."

" _About which part?_ " Ramirez asked wryly.

"Both."

Stacker took a deep breath. "You really believe Blake Ketteridge means the Hassans harm?"

"I think that if he really thought a solo Jaeger could take Spinejackal, he'd have sent Striker and kept Vulcan back. I think the Hassans are expendable to him at best."

" _Then we need to reassign Vulcan, somewhere other than Sydney_ ," said Ramirez. " _And assign at least two other Jaegers, because Blake Ketteridge won't give up Striker._ "

_That may be the one factor that saves Herc from a court martial._ Here was the second time in as many months that Stacker had witnessed an act of blatant insubordination... and found himself having difficulty blaming the rebellious officer. A few years ago, he would never have tolerated the near-mutiny that Ranger Hansen had instigated. _Would I have silenced my misgivings and let Blake Ketteridge send Vulcan Specter and its pilots out alone?_ The Hassans were the most successful Rangers in the world - _then again, so were their best friends, the Beckets, until they_ and _their commander assumed they were invincible._

Granted, Devi and Susanti Hassan weren't nearly as prone to risk-taking as Raleigh and Yancy had been; they were cautious, methodical fighters, and it had served them and their Jaeger well over the years. But why risk their safety and the safety of all they were charged to protect when it wasn't necessary? That was the central point: it hadn't been necessary. There were two proven Jaegers in Sydney - what was the point of leaving Striker Eureka to sit and stew in the Shatterdome rather than available on-site as back-up? Highly questionable priorities...but was there any chance that Herc was right as to Blake Ketteridge's motive?

"I'll speak to Colonel Okita," he finally said. "Perhaps we can persuade her to let Coyote Tango be transferred to Sydney for the time being. She and Admiral Yamamoto might be willing if it means Vulcan would be assigned to Japan, in close proximity to Tacit Ronin."

" _We'll still need someone else in Sydney_ ," said Marshal Ramirez. " _We're not likely to have any volunteers, but I'll talk to some of my Rangers._ "

"None of ours are going to want to cross the lake," Caitlin agreed. "Not after Blake Ketteridge's display."

"But _most_ of ours will follow orders," Stacker finished. "And perhaps we can prevent a dispute like that from occurring again by balancing out the strength of the bases. Sydney is the least manned, and today demonstrated that we should do something about it. Romeo Blue should be back on his feet in a few weeks."

Ana Ramirez said neutrally, " _I'll talk to Team Mammoth. They might be willing to go. Their ties aren't local to Los Angeles._ " Stacker didn't bat an eye, but Caitlin's face couldn't quite hide her bemusement. No one in this conversation could miss that the potential transfers they were considering were for all-male teams.

Quietly, behind the scenes, Stacker would also investigate whether there might be grounds for "suggesting" that Blake Ketteridge should retire and put someone else in command of Sydney Shatterdome.

* * *

_Port Philip Bay, Australia…  
February 1, 2022…_

Susanti Hassan and her sister spent the next sixteen hours calling in all their focus to keep their attention on holding Spinejackal's ugly carcass back from the mouth of Port Phillip Bay - and off all thoughts of strangling Hercules Hansen. _Of all the bloody, patronizing, interfering asses!_

But then there was also the nasty little awareness in the back of their minds as the fight went on and on that... without Striker here backing them up, Suze and Devi might have had a really hard time slowing this kaiju down. Spinejackal was one of the ugliest bastards they'd seen even by kaiju standards, and he was also the most armored yet.

Vulcan and Striker made the intercept together at the miracle mile off Point Lonsdale and Portsea, and spent the first four hours of combat just pounding Spinejackal with their meteor hammers to break through the thick Stegosaurus plates that ran down his back and wrapped around his stomach like a multi-layered turtle shell. At one point, they managed to pin him in thick mud of the shallows, and Herc and Chuck tried to get one of their sling blades under the plates. The blade broke off, sending Striker staggering back as Herc yelled and cursed in pain.

_"Gotta break them first,_ " Chuck concluded, and they sheathed their remaining blade in favor of their brass knuckles, just battering the kaiju's neck until the armor began to crack.

Not unlike a Stegosaurus, Spinejackal had a spiked tail - and spiked limbs - that the two Jaegers had to continuously dodge and block. They rolled through blinding silt in the shallows, and Devi and Suze were tossed almost a hundred meters, luckily only doing damage to the scenic drive. They scooped a boulder off the shoreline and went charging back to bash Spinejackal over the head, finally stunning the bastard long enough for Striker to hack the tail off.

Then the two of them slammed him on his back into the rocky shoreline, wedging his plates like anchors, and pummeled his neck until the armor broke, and they could empty their lava reserves into him.

Panting, Suze and Devi looked each other over, then turned to Striker. "You two okay over there?"

_"Yeah,_ " Herc grunted. " _I think I pulled a few fingers out of the joint when that blade snapped."_

_"I'm good,"_ said Chuck. Striker splashed down his torso to wash off the Kaiju Blue, then he said suddenly, " _Hey, have you got any lava left?"_

Suze checked her reserves. "About half full on the left side."

" _Maybe burn up the end of that tail so he stops leaking all over the wildlife preserve."_

They had to grin. "Hey, who's being all environmentally conscious? Right, hang on. LOCCENT, tell the trash carrier they're clear to move in. We're gonna cauterize the open wounds as best we can with our remaining incendiary."

" _Copy that, Vulcan, carrier's already on his way - oh, wait. Hey, can one of you pull those rocks back out of the shallows? Those two big ones behind you - they're blocking the carrier's approach. The closer the carrier can get, the less contamination for the lift choppers."_

_"We'll do them one better,"_ said Chuck, sounding smug. Suze and Devi worked their way around the kaiju's back end and shot each other snide grins as they jammed Suze's thrower against the the torn stub of its tail and burned it out with the remains of their lava. " _Give us a hand, hey?_ "

They could hear cheers from LOCCENT on the speakers as they hefted the carcass between them and carried it out to meet the cargo ship, sparing the Hazmat teams the risk of attaching it to a collection of lift lines and slings.

Marshal Ketteridge huffed and puffed. _"This is_ not _the Jaegers' jobs!"_ But he didn't flat-out order them to stop, and as torqued as Suze and Devi were at Herc, they weren't about to start doing Ketteridge any favors. If getting the kaiju off the shoreline and its toxic byproducts contained that much faster could be accomplished with a Jaeger's help, without any great risk, why not? So much the better if it gained them some good PR.

When they were off the comm connection to LOCCENT awaiting pickup, Suze was ready to call Herc and launch into reaming him out, but Devi stopped her. If it had merely been due to Devi's lingering crush, Suze would have pressed the matter, but it wasn't. Devi was as ticked as her sister by Herc's overreach, but she didn't want it on the black box records. They'd have to wait until they were face-to-face to talk it out the old fashioned way.

But it turned out that there had been others talking too, and by the time the Rangers were back in Sydney, the controversy was in full-swing. Someone had leaked to the media the near-mutiny that Herc had sparked, and all hell was breaking loose.

The UN representatives were already on-site, along with Secretary General Krieger and some PPDC investigators, and half the commanding officers for the other Shatterdomes were conferenced in. _Bloody hell._

Indra barely had time to update them before everyone was being dragged into the meeting room. "Herc's already complained formally, and Ketteridge is threatening a court martial against him." He shot Suze a reluctant look. "Even Kyrra's in Herc's corner. She agrees with his take: that Ketteridge deems you expendable at best, or wants you dead at worse."

Suze faltered, but Devi was still bristling. "And has it occurred to none of them that it ought to be up to _us_ whether a complaint gets filed on our behalf?!"

'I did point that out," Indra sighed. "For what it's worth, it's not just Team Striker. I think the wheels started turning after that debacle on the deployment while you and the Hansens were still engaged."

Suze spotted Chuck Hansen peering at them from the entrance to Striker's bay. "What does the kid think?"

"I'm not sure. I'm not sure _he's_ sure either - he's being uncharacteristically quiet while Herc and Ketteridge are busy pounding their chests."

"Hell." Suze could feel Devi getting a headache. "Well, unlike his father, I'm not dragging him into this pissing match." Devi shot their youngest Ranger a weary smile, but Chuck just nodded and vanished. "Not much of a celebration for his second kill. So do we plunge on in or wait for a sign?"

A long nap to tally their bruises and burns and get back into their own heads was usually the only concern after an engagement. It was sorely tempting to just say, "fuck it," and let the brass and the buffoons sort themselves out. But Suze sighed and wrapped an arm around Devi's shoulders, massaging her temples for her while they were standing up. "We might as well keep on top of what's going on, remind them, hello, we exist!"

But it turned out the train had already left the station.

They got to the conference room to find Herc fuming and half the commanding officers already conferenced in. " _Rangers Hassan, we were just about to call you_ ," said Colonel Okita. " _You are being reassigned to Nagasaki Shatterdome_."

Devi just stared. Suze finally blurted, "You're reassigning _us_ because Herc Hansen threw a fit?!"

Almost everyone on Team Striker winced. Secretary General Krieger said hastily, "No, this is simply because Sydney has not had a rotation since the Tango Tasmania days, and I think recent... tensions are an indicator of the problems that can arise if there aren't rotations of Jaegers. Striker Eureka is the Jaeger most recently launched with the least experienced Ranger," (Chuck winced), "so he will remain at his primary base."

Devi put a restraining hand on Suze's arm before Suze exploded, but did ask in a frigidly-polite voice, "Do we get no say in this, sir?"

"Ahem." Krieger looked awkwardly at the other brass.

Finally, Marshal Pentecost spoke up on the video feed. " _We assume you are objecting, Ranger Hassan?_ "

"Yes," Suze ground out. "Vulcan Specter's Australian too. Our family is here, most of our crew are local. This is our home base as well. Whatever _tensions_ have come up, they should be resolved by the people who are actually instigating them." She shot a meaningful look at Herc, who had the grace to look down.

" _If we may, sir?_ " Much to Devi and Suze's mortification, it seemed there were not only commanders, but other crews on the vid comm. Vic and Gunnar Tunari stepped into view next to Colonel Okita in Nagasaki's war room. " _We're willing enough to take reassignment, since we have no binding local connections to any Shatterdome. But is switching us with Vulcan Specter really efficient? I don't know if either of you have any Japanese or Korean,"_ Gunnar said to Devi and Suze. They shook their heads. " _We were going to re-form the A-Team after this engagement. The logistics of deploying us with Vulcan and Typhoon will be the same._ "

"Which is why this is an ideal plan," Krieger insisted. "You'll each also be far closer to the junior partner you've been training: Vulcan with Tacit Ronin, and Coyote with Striker Eureka."

"Rather than simply move us around, why not assign a third Jaeger to Sydney?" Devi protested. "Wasn't that being considered before the engagement? This won't solve the problem of us being the least-manned Shatterdome."

Suze's heart sank as more awkward glances were exchanged. Marshal Ramirez spoke up from Los Angeles. " _Mammoth Apostle is coming to Sydney as well._ "

_Of all the..._ now Suze and Devi's disgust was almost forming a feedback loop between their heads. _Really? Ketteridge is so fucking useless that you're giving him all-male teams just to make sure he doesn't try to screw female pilots over?_

Before either of them could speak, Herc Hansen barged into the discussion - again. "And speaking of measures that won't solve the bloody problem. Rather than cater to this C.O.'s out-of-control misogyny, maybe you ought to actually _deal with it -_ "

"GOD FUCKING DAMN IT, Herc, will you bloody _shut up_?!" Suze exploded, rounding on him. "You and your condescending shit're the reason we've got this mess!"

"Suze!" Indra grabbed her arm. Chuck looked like he wanted to crawl under the conference table.

" _Rangers!_ " several voices exclaimed.

Now Ketteridge was puffing up. "There is nothing to deal with here except your insubordination, Hansen!" he thundered. "I have _never_ given Vulcan Specter any less resources that you have, and I _certainly_ was not trying to commit the 'perfect murder' rather than preserve as much of our Shatterdome's arsenal as I could! For God's sake, we're having to operate with less and less resources every year while the kaiju are getting bigger and bigger and more of our budget is being diverted to the wall! Vulcan Specter's the most proven Jaeger in the world - as I'm frequently reminded - it was reasonable that they could handle a Category III!" Suze managed not to scoff (and Herc didn't restrain himself) but to all three of their alarm and disgust, Ketteridge abruptly looked for support from Chuck. "Unlike your father, _you_ don't have an irrational grudge at work. I lost two daughters and a granddaughter to Scissure, as I told you back when you applied. Do _you_ really think I've given Rangers Hassan anything less than the best?"

Even Herc went speechless - or maybe, judging by the way Chuck shifted, the eighteen-year-old cut off his co-pilot's protests in the ghost drift. As unusually silent and clearly dismayed as he'd been through all this, Chuck didn't cringe from the sudden pressure.

The kid locked eyes with Ketteridge for a long moment, then answered: "Yes." Ketteridge looked ready to spontaneously combust, but Chuck wasn't done. "They've been an inconvenience and an afterthought to you ever since they got here. Even when I was a kid, I picked up on that; they were never the crew you wanted, and no matter how many kills they made, that's not changed. Every other chance, you've pushed for Striker Eureka to take the lead, never mind I'm the least experienced pilot. You even wanted us to join the A-Team for an engagement without having done a single simulation. This time, you put them out in front? It's right to question your motives."

All Susanti's fury congealed into something cold and tremulous inside, and she knew from the ghost drift that her sister felt the same. They both doubted they were the only ones frozen as silence settled over the conference room and vid comm feed. Chuck Hansen was a creature of rants and snarled insults and temper. Hearing him speak like this, all hard calm and laying out the evidence... it was terrifying for reasons neither Hassan sister could quite place. Everyone who wasn't staring at Chuck in complete shock was looking at Ketteridge - and those eyes from the Sydney crews and the PPDC brass seemed to be calculating, re-assessing the Sydney Marshal's actions.

"We...we..." Secretary General Krieger groped for words. "The PPDC takes complaints of bias seriously, and, of course, we'll investigate these concerns fully." He rallied to finish, "But at this moment, our concern should be ensuring that all bases are fully equipped and prepared to operate with as little tension or distraction as possible."

Colonel Okita and Admiral Yamamoto were exchanging looks as if they'd been privately messaging back and forth during all this, and Okita said, " _I recognize your concerns, Rangers Hassan, but I think it would be for the best if we proceeded with the transfer. It will not be permanent_ ," she added. " _And Rangers Tunari can vouch that I'm as generous as possible with granting leave to the foreign crews so they can remain close to their families_." The Tunaris nodded in unison, but both were clearly uncomfortable.

Devi prodded Suze in the drift. _We can't very well refuse to obey orders. There's been enough of that for one engagement._

_So we uproot ourselves, Indra, and the entire crew because Herc thinks we're damsels in distress?_ Suze fumed, but she already knew the answer.

_Better than yet another mutiny. We obey the orders but look into our own complaint options - maybe one against Herc._ That was a significant consideration from Devi Hassan. _Or maybe if this investigation does bear fruit, Ketteridge will be gone and we can request a transfer back after the next event._

"Rangers?" Krieger prompted.

Suze nodded to her sister and let Devi talk. Dev was always more capable of being diplomatic and keeping both anger and hurt in check. "We'll obey any transfer order from Command, sir, but we do formally protest. A complaint of bias by another crew shouldn't result in _our_ crew being the one forced to move."

" _Noted for the record_ ," said Marshal Ramirez. " _I suggest we revisit the transfer during the course of this investigation._ "

"Done," said Krieger. "Marshal Ketteridge, I think the commanding officers should continue discussions in private while the crews proceed with post-engagement reports and recovery."

He might not have been entirely off the hot seat, but Ketteridge looked relieved. "Non-command personnel, dismissed."

_So that's that. We're indeed dismissed._

**_To Be Continued..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Coming Soon:_ ** _Our heroes are separated from their most trusted teammates, and when Matador Fury goes back into combat, they get another reminder of the ugly influence of politics on the Jaeger Program. Soon after, Herc and Chuck face their harshest test yet in_ _**Chapter Thirty-Nine: Damage Report!** _
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Andrés Alcazar and Daniel Moreno: Matador Fury's Rangers, Mexican nationals, early 40s. Andrés was a historian and Daniel was a lawyer, both writing and working against institutional corruption before imprisoned for an unknown period. They were released along with other non-violent prisoners to attempt the Jaeger Academy, but have not yet been granted a pardon.
> 
> Darrell Sullivan: Public Relations liaison for Romeo Blue and its crew.
> 
> Brady Harris: Public Relations liaison for Yankee Star and its crew.
> 
> Tanisha Davis/Caleb Mitchell: Rangers of Yankee Star, America's Mark-2 Jaeger. Former US Marines in their 30s. Tanisha is African-American from Los Angeles, Caleb is from rural Oklahoma.
> 
> Marshal Columbina Quijano: Commanding officer of Panama City Shatterdome. Panamanian Public Forces officer, early 60s. Married to a Chinese national with one daughter and three grandchildren who also attended Nittany Valley Prep with Mako and Liling.
> 
> Marshal Blake Ketteridge: Commanding Officer of Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force.
> 
> Colonel Sanae Okita: Commanding Officer of Nagasaki Shatterdome, Japanese Air Force colonel in her 40s.
> 
> Admiral Daichi Yamamoto: Commanding Officer of Tokyo Shatterdome, Japanese Naval officer in his 60s.
> 
> Devi/Susanti Hassan: Rangers of Vulcan Specter, Australia's Mark-3 Jaeger. Sisters, ages 26 and 24, first-generation daughters of Indonesian immigrants to Australia who graduated Jaeger Academy's Class 2016-B along with the Beckets, Kennedy LaRue, and Stephanie Lanphier.
> 
> Kyrra Taior: Chief Engineer for Lucky Seven, then Striker Eureka. Aboriginal Australian, Herc's age. Youngest and sole surviving daughter of Marian Taior, an elderly aboriginal woman who occasionally looked after Chuck when he was younger. Susanti Hassan's long-term girlfriend.
> 
> Indra Hassan: Devi and Susanti's cousin, early 40s, failed the Jaeger Academy's second cut for drift compatibility but stayed on to become a LOCCENT technician. He serves the same role on Vulcan Specter's crew that Tendo Choi did for Gipsy Danger and now Striker Eureka.


	39. Damage Report

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes are separated from their most trusted teammates due to the misconduct of their Marshal. Whether he'll answer for it remains to be seen, and the next attack results in tragedy and more ugly influence of politics on the Jaeger Program.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** _ _Many thanks to all of you for your patience during these long lags between updates! I appreciate your reviews and feedback more than you can imagine! This story and the Generation K series will be finished, the writing is just going slowly due to work demands._

**Chapter Thirty-Nine: Damage Report**

_Sydney Shatterdome…_   
_February 3, 2022…_

Tendo was downright timid about offering Team Vulcan a hand at the logistics of relocating a Jaeger and its crew to another Shatterdome. "It's just, we did it several times in the US - if you need a hand, I mean."

"Thanks, mate," said Indra, giving him a forced smile. However disgruntled Team Vulcan was at being shunted off to another Dome so the menfolk would stop fussing, Devi had quietly put the word out that this was _not_ to wreck their relationship with the rest of the personnel.

Not even when Tendo admitted to her that he agreed with Herc. "This deployment was a step too far. Chuckboy summed it up; if he hadn't, if it'd just been Herc's word, Command would probably have dropped it. But Ketteridge even broke deployment protocol by trying to send you out without back-up."

"Okay, fine," Suze said. "So we'll complain based on that, actual hard evidence rather than just Herc grinding his axe against Ketteridge. Not that we've got any choice but to sign on even though _we_ were the 'wronged party.'" Tendo winced, but she gave him a grim smile. "Relax, mate, I'm not blaming you. It's just so damned patronizing."

"He's an idiot, acting like a crew with six kills is dead weight. Okita jumped at the chance to have you in Nagasaki even though it meant giving up Coyote, and they're not exactly untried." Tendo smiled sadly. "Man... I keep thinking about what Rals and Yance would say to this."

Devi burst out laughing. It hurt the way remembering the Beckets always did, but there was something cathartic about it. "I shudder to imagine! Oh, hell. They'd be on Herc's side too, the little shits. Especially Yancy. He could never resist defending the downtrodden, whether the downtrodden like it or not." _And Rals would be storming in to challenge Ketteridge to a duel._

She and Suze packed up their quarters as fast as they could to try not to get too despondent over it all, but as hours, then days passed, they were both keenly aware that Herc and Chuck were avoiding them outside daily drills. Finally, Devi cornered Chuck on the grounds while he was walking Max.

"You're going to not even say goodbye to us?"

Chuck's dismal expression pulled at her heart as if he were still fifteen. "I wasn't sure you'd want..."

Devi stepped closer and pulled him into a hug. He didn't even squirm. "I'm not mad at you, kid. Ketteridge put you on the spot; you told the truth."

Chuck stood back, eyes intense. "It _was_ the truth. I'm not just going along with my dad. When have I ever done that?" he added wryly, and Devi chuckled.

"I know. That's why we formally complained too. We'll see what comes of it." Her throat tightened, much to her embarrassment, and she disguised it by kneeling to scratch Max up and down. "But you better be careful or we'll steal Max to take with us!"

Chuck made a horrified noise and dropped down next to her, and they pretended to play tug-of-war with Max's legs. Max just considered it more massage.

A few hours later, after Chuck had taken Max in, Devi found Herc coming to join her. She avoided his eyes and looked out at the frame of the Sydney Wall instead. It covered the entire mouth of the Harbour now, completely blocking the view of the ocean.

"You still speaking to me?"

Devi sighed. "My sister and I are less than impressed, if that's what you mean." And yet... _I don't want to leave on bad terms. There'll be at least one engagement before we can get back, at the earliest._

"I know, I could've handled it better," said Herc.

She rounded on him. "Maybe you could've left it to _us_ to 'handle.'"

But while Herc looked sad, he had much the same stance as Chuck: unrepentant. "That bastard needs to be stopped. And if it were another crew, you'd have done what I did, not let them go out alone."

"We'd…" _Fuck._ "It was still our prerogative, not yours. And I don't buy for one second that this wasn't more about your own grudge than trying to protect us. You know we can protect ourselves. If we think a deployment order's unsafe, we can speak for ourselves."

"So why didn't you? I saw the look on your face when he said Striker was staying in Sydney."

Devi scowled at the Wall. It was just a hollow frame right now; all the reinforcements would take at least another year. Even when it was done, she wagered that under the first kaiju, the whole thing would crumble like paper maché. As for the wall between her and one of her closest friends, they were at a stalemate, because Herc wasn't budging. _We could all stand to leave our egos outside the conn-pod._ She and Suze probably should have spoken up at the time of deployment, not that Herc had given them a chance before losing his shit.

"Next time, let us make that call first, unless you do think the womenfolk need a man to talk for them." That was a low blow, but she didn't care. Herc looked away. "Look. I don't know how long we'll be in different Domes. Suze doesn't want to split on bad blood, and neither does Chuck. We're having dinner in Brisbane with the family before leaving. Come with us."

He looked relieved, but asked, "You sure you don't want to be alone with your family?" She shook her head. _You are family._ "Chuck and I did argue when they started talking about transferring you. We didn't want that to happen."

"I know."

* * *

They had a truce from then on under the terms of "agree to disagree" for Herc's heavy-handedness, but things were a little tense for that last family dinner in Brisbane. Herc didn't _think_ the Hassans had vented to their family about his role in their transfer, but the tension was noticeable. Plus, Devi and Suze and Indra's parents were upset that they were leaving and couldn't have missed the public commentary about the allegations of gender bias nearly causing Vulcan to deploy alone in contravention of standing orders.

Herc wanted to speak up and allay their fears, and knew Chuck sensed it. _In some ways, they'll be in better hands in Nagasaki. Colonel Okita's a fair commander, and they'll be a lot closer to back-up with far more Jaegers about. No risk at all that they'll be deployed alone._ But he bit his tongue, since both he and Chuck recognized they'd already usurped the girls' prerogative to decide what to say and when and how to say it.

Their emails back and forth were cautious, at least to Herc. Chuck had an almost constant electronic chess game running with one or both of them, and became something of a shutterbug so he could constantly send them silly e-cards with pictures of Max.

When it hit the gossip chain that Devi Hassan was consistently out on the town with a local Japanese airman, _everyone_ in the Sydney Shatterdome looked at Herc. He forced a chuckle and waved them off. _No big deal at all. I'm glad she's enjoying herself up there._

Not only were things awkward between the Hansens and Hassans, but it bled over to the new crews that arrived with Coyote Tango and Mammoth Apostle. The Americans knew most of the gory details of the dispute that had led up to this transfer. It made them uncomfortable as hell coming to Sydney, but at least Herc and Chuck knew the Tunaris well. Mammoth's pilots, Bobby Kanda and Ken Gould, were good-natured men who took to Chuck and Max.

Also on the bright side, Ketteridge kept to himself and spared everyone the bluster and fawning that he usually unleashed on the male pilots. Herc was frustrated that the investigation into Ketteridge's treatment of Devi and Suze was moving so slowly.

On top of that, J-Tech was pushing for Striker to be taken off-line for a full examination of the conn-pod's electrical structure. "I do not like the way the left hemisphere's motion rig keeps losing connectivity as the engagement goes on," Priya Katwal insisted. "Those circuits are right along the oxygen line and a major hydraulic point. We need to find the cause!"

Ketteridge shot back, "Until I have something more definite _and_ an order from Command grounding him, Striker stays active. I can't take my best mech offline for a hunch!"

Priya and Lea Franklin did make a formal report, but most of the senior Engineering personnel were in Anchorage trying to finish the repairs to Hydra Corinthian and Romeo Blue before the next event.

* * *

_Sydney Shatterdome…  
March 6, 2022…_

With the next Breach event, the entire Eastern Hemisphere got a bitter reminder that there were other priorities.

It was a huge Category IV, codename Wekufe, that headed straight for Mexico. Hydra Corinthian and Romeo Blue were still under repair from the attack by Screed at Christmas, so Matador Fury had been re-teamed with Chrome Brutus and Yankee Star.

Three tested and powerful Jaegers with six experienced pilots made the intercept off Acapulco, Mexico. But the kaiju was unlike anything K-Science had seen before. It shifted and moved like an amoeba, seeming to _grow_ new limbs to tear at its attackers. Yankee Star landed multiple hits that would have killed any previous kaiju very dead, but the bastard absorbed them and kept coming. Chrome Brutus fared better, pile driving and forcing the monster away from the shore.

Matador embedded four of his six spears in the amorphous body and moved in with his swords to try and hack Wekufe apart. It seemed to be working - until the kaiju slammed a massive dent into Matador's shoulder and followed up with spurts of noxious ichor from its wounds.

Shouts and curses rang out in Sydney among the crews gathered around the monitors, and Herc actually grabbed Chuck's arm in horror as he heard Alcazar and Moreno yell that they had a reactor breach. "Oh god, oh god, please, no," Tendo hissed against his fist.

_"Matador, get clear!_ " Tanisha Davis of Yankee Star shouted, and they shouldered in between their fellows, unleashing a barrage of mortars at near point-blank range. Yankee might not have been fast enough to escape the next disgusting splash of Blue, but Chrome simply grabbed her around the waist and hauled her back.

But Matador didn't get clear. " _What the hell are you doing?"_

_"We can finish this. We have – systems -_ " The comms started to go in Matador's pod, and Tendo and the LOCCENT crew were now looking at the readings and cursing. Some were already near tears.

Matador kept hacking, inflicting ever-deepening gashes in Wekufe's body, but exposing himself to more and more Kaiju Blue in his hull breaches. His systems were failing, and Yankee and Chrome charged back in, heedless of the danger even as the kaiju lost the ability to put up much of a fight.

"It's too late," murmured Vic Tunari, looking over Tendo's shoulder. "Their reactor's going, and they've probably got Blue in the conn-pod."

_"Signature, goddammit! LOCCENT, do we have signature?"_ Ilisapie Flint yelled.

" _No signature, Chrome, no signature! Matador, you need to eject immediately! Radiation levels are approaching lethal!"_

There was no answer. Matador was only upright because Chrome and Yankee were bracing him.

" _Hold it! Choppers, do not approach, radiation's rising externally - SHIT!_ " Davis shouted. " _Okay, hang on, we'll get the pilots!"_

As Herc and the watchers in Sydney held their breach, Yankee reached directly for Matador's head and began prying the conn-pod itself free from the superstructure.

" _Chrome Brutus, Yankee Star, this is Marshal Ramirez; Matador's reactor is going into meltdown! You have exactly ninety seconds to finish this and get clear! In another minute, that radiation won't be survivable!"_

_"Don't need a minute. Hang on - Chrome, MOVE!"_ Flint and Amarok obeyed, and Yankee zapped at Matador's couplings with her lasers to free the pod and slipped her hand under it. _"Go! Go!"_

_"Evacuation ordered for a twenty-mile radius for radiation. Reactor going critical!_ " warned Los Angeles LOCCENT as the two Jaegers hustled away with Matador's conn-pod cradled in Yankee's arms. " _Yankee Star, Chrome Brutus, retreat to the northwest and keep moving! Rendezvous with lift teams at Barra de Coyuca! Nuclear emergency teams are moving in."_

"You think this is the end of Matador?" Mammoth's Bobby Kanda asked Kyrra and the J-Techs.

"Yeah. He's got Blue penetration at multiple points in the superstructure and in the reactor, hydraulics, electric. They'd have done better to push him off the continental shelf and just sink him to drown the reactor. He won't be salvageable." Kyrra spat. "Bloody shit. Five engagements, four kills, and we lose our bullfighter to the fucking Blob!"

"What about the pilots? Are they alive?" Chuck murmured.

Tendo nodded. "We still have vitals for both of them, though... God almighty, the radiation levels are hovering right around the lethal threshold. Even if they survive that..." he shot Chuck a bleak look. "And sensors were picking up a lot of Blue before they went down. Altogether it may not be survivable." Herc met his eyes and heard all too clearly what he didn't say. _It might be better for them if they didn't._

* * *

_March 6, 2022…  
Acapulco, Mexico…_

Tanisha and Caleb brought their fragile cargo carefully outside the radiation zone with Chrome at their side. "External radiation levels now dropping. Matador's conn-pod is secure. Radiation levels are acceptable for the pod itself."

_"We're still showing two sets of vitals inside, Yankee,_ " LOCCENT informed them. " _Emergency rescue/recovery teams will meet you where you come ashore. We've got a US cargo ship for the conn-pod itself in case there's contamination in it."_

"Should we put the pod on the beach first so they can get to Andrés and Daniel faster?" Caleb asked.

" _Checking with the cleanup team... hold on, Yankee, secure message coming in for you_."

Caleb and Tanisha exchanged a puzzled glance over the hologram of Matador's pod in their hands as their team liaison, Brady Harris, came onto the line. His voice was very low. " _Listen up. I'm at the rendezvous point, and it's swarming with Mexican law enforcement. They're planning to take Andrés and Daniel back into custody first chance they get."_

Yankee Star's pilots nearly stopped in their tracks. " _What?!"_ Caleb hissed.

Tanisha worked it out and choked back a flood of curses. "They were never gonna give them that pardon. Now that Matador's down, they're gonna put 'em right back in jail." _No. No, no, no, no fucking way. Not on our watch._ Their minds raced, but it turned out Brady already had been working on it.

" _Marshal Pentecost just called me. He suggested the shore hazard is too high to put the conn-pod on the ground, if you get my meaning. The PPDC cargo ship is in international waters, and those are American military medics. They'll follow your orders."_

"I don't like it, Brady, we've got Mexican Coast Guard choppers everywhere. We'd do better to get them evac'd somewhere else," said Tanisha. _And what's to stop them from extradition?_ She buzzed Chrome Brutus. "Hey, Chrome, we got a problem."

" _We know. Our liaison just told us, but I think we've got a solution. You remember Marshal Gagnon from Anchorage?"_

"Yeah, he retired," said Caleb.

" _Right. Okay, who's the evac pilot we can trust the most? Special mission."_

* * *

_March 9, 2022…  
Sydney Shatterdome…_

Herc and Chuck had to admit a small measure of relief when the rescue crews sadly announced that Andrés Alcazar and Daniel Moreno had died on the operating table aboard the carrier off the Mexican coast. _"Radiation exposure and kaiju blue contamination was extremely severe,_ " a medic told the media. " _These brave men will have to be buried in lead-lined coffins. We're transporting them and Matador Fury's conn-pod well offshore to prevent any leakage in populated areas._ "

The outpouring of public grief in Mexico was hard to watch, especially amid the rumors that the Mexican authorities had still been waffling over whether Andrés and Daniel would receive formal pardons right up until the moment they died. Now they would get the pardons - posthumously.

"Did you know them well?" Chuck asked Bobby and Ken.

Mammoth's pilots nodded. "We did a couple of stints with them in Los Angeles. Good men. They deserved better. Some of their crew were under that same parole scheme. I don't know what's going to happen to them," Bobby mused.

Word was already getting around. "Rumor has it all nine of those guys have mysteriously disappeared," Tendo said with a smug smile. "Considering they had to cross back into the US at some point, it sounds like they had accomplices. Good luck to them. I hope they're never caught. They were all good guys. I'm only sorry Andrés and Daniel didn't live long enough to join them."

Then it was black armbands and twenty-one-gun salutes, memorials... and the pundits seizing on the fall of Matador Fury as another example of the Jaeger Program's wastefulness.

Profanity and very creative descriptors rang through the Sydney Shatterdome as the Mexican government were the first to jump ship, withdrawing all funding from the Jaeger Program in favor of building walls around Acapulco and their other major coastal cities. "Your own bloody prisoners die for you and you spit on their graves," Chuck snarled.

"Ohhh, and look, in their generosity, they'll still allow Jaeger Program support crews and Jaegers in their shores and waters when we inevitably have to defend their asses against the next kaiju," added Kyrra. "Fucking disgusting."

"Team Hydra Corinthian says there's growing support for the same measures in Panama," Tendo informed them. "Right now, Puma Real and Marshal Quijano have the political capital to hold it off, but it's getting ugly."

"Every one of those Wall-humpers are gonna see how ugly it can get," Herc vowed.

* * *

_April 2022…_

Attacks were now averaging five weeks apart. The next one was a relatively-small Category III that went for Shanghai. Devi told Chuck that the Wei triplets nearly rebelled, wanting to take the A-Team out in defense of their home city.

"Another mutiny, huh?" Tendo muttered to Herc, making Herc do something between a grin and a wince.

"General Liang talked them down. Butterfly Sword and Eden Assassin have got this one, and Shaolin Rogue's chilling in the harbor with Nova Hyperion in case they run into trouble," Vic Tunari said. He considered the Russian Mark-2 and the Chinese/Indian Mark-4 as they ping-ponged the kaiju between each other, and shook his head. "They won't need backup. They've got this bitch. Shaolin's making kabob out of him with that spear."

"We did started doing double-sims with Team Shaolin last year," Chuck remarked. "I bloody love that spear." He shot the others a glum look, tapping his black armband. "There's another reason I'll miss old Matador."

"Don't ever get complacent, kid," said Ken Gould. "Even the best fighters can fall." He and Team Mammoth's crew were more focused on the fight as Hong Kong LOCCENT declared the kaiju dead, but nearly everyone from Team Striker and Team Coyote looked at Herc.

* * *

_May 2022…_

Mid-May, a Category IV, codenamed Chiwanda and even bigger than Wekufe, took aim at Hong Kong. This one merited the launch of the A-Team, while the B-Team waited off Macau just in case. Herc and Chuck took Striker out with Mammoth Apostle and Butterfly Sword to form yet another back-up team thirty miles down the coast at Taishan. As much as Chuck was hungry for another deployment, even he was apprehensive at what it would mean if they did take on this one: _God help us if this bastard gets past six Jaegers._

But the A-Team was rechristened the Dream Team, and the Wei triplets demonstrated that both they and their Jaeger were very much back in fighting form. This time it was Coyote Tango who took the worst hit, getting nailed in her shoulder rockets by a tail barb that reminded Herc and Chuck of Meathead's. Luckily, the fighting was close-quarters so the rockets weren't really needed for this engagement, and Vic and Gunnar weren't injured.

" _AAH, fucking - bastard just grabbed our ass!"_

_"I think he bit your ass,"_ one of the Weis said.

_"Sorry, dude, you're not our type!"_ the Tunaris informed the kaiju right before blasting it in the face with their energy caster.

_"At least buy them dinner first!"_ Suze Hassan chimed in as they joined Typhoon to pile onto the kaiju... only to find it'd stopped moving. " _Didn't think you slapped his face that hard, Coyote. LOCCENT, where's our signature?"_

_"We still have signature, Rangers, finish him off!_ "

" _Stand by with your lava, Vulcan. Let's do surgery,"_ announced Hu, and they deployed two of their sawblades while keeping their own plasma caster at the ready, and neatly severed the spine. " _Signature?"_

_"Now he's dead. Vulcan, burn him up!"_

_"Get off him, Typhoon, our turn for a ride."_ The Hassans cauterized the carcass's wounds to much praise from the Chinese media, then jumped clear to celebrate with Typhoon and Coyote.

" _Do you think the rumors are true that Vulcan Specter was transferred to Japan due to disparate treatment by Sydney's commander?"_ an American reporter asked one of the Chinese commentators.

In Sydney, crew choked and stole glances at Ketteridge, who promptly vanished into his office. " _I don't know. I cannot imagine any commander with sense would not see Vulcan Specter's strength. He is the most successful of all the Jaegers. This is the Hassans' seventh kill!"_

That evening over celebratory drinks and a poker tournament, Bobby and Ken shot knowing smirks at Herc and Chuck. "Looks like Coyote will need a little time in the shop for that ass-grab. Maybe local pressure will get Vulcan back here."

"I bloody hope so."

But despite the public pressure, Vulcan didn't come back to Sydney. Devi, Suze, and Indra did get a week of leave, and Herc and Chuck met them in Brisbane to celebrate another successful kill. Herc was disgusted when word got around that the investigation against Ketteridge was closed. The records weren't released, but the fact that Ketteridge was still in command of Sydney was a sign that at best, he'd gotten a slap on the wrist.

Devi and Suze were sour, but not surprised. Suze pointed at Herc. "Now drop it, you."

"How is Nagasaki?" Devi and Suze's mother asked, changing the subject.

"Nagasaki's fine. So-Yi and Yuna are teaching us fencing. I'm starting to wish we had a blade in Vulcan," said Suze. "Doing in-person practice with Tacit Ronin's easy. On top of the simulator, we drill with them once a week. The plan is still that we'll pair with them for double teams."

"Now that Coyote's in repair, it looks like we'll be teamed up with Shaolin Rogue," said Chuck.

* * *

_June 2022…_

One month and one day later, the next kaiju, a Category III, went almost due north. By some miracle or quirk, it passed by Guam and the Mariana Islands, then gave Japan a break too while Jaegers spread out in pairs along Hokkaido and the completed Siberian Wall, strung between the Kuril Islands. The spotters lost the bogey multiple times in the stormy seas, but finally, Eden Assassin and Cascade Victor made the intercept in snowy, rough waters nearly four miles away from the wall (much to the disappointment of those who wanted to see how it would hold up.)

It was a fairly simple kill, leading some of the Tactics officers to wonder if rough weather might have disoriented the kaiju, or maybe if they should concentrate on microwave-based weapons like Eden's, which needed only one hit to thoroughly injure the target. The two mechs came through in good condition, and once again, public support was shifting again in favor of Jaegers over walls.

However, the budget wasn't shifting back nearly as rapidly. Class 2022-A of the Jaeger Academy graduated no drift compatible teams, and Tactics enabled a solo simulator for candidates who wanted to keep their skills sharp in the hope of eventually pairing off.

" _This is a growing problem_ ," Marshal Pentecost confided to Herc. " _Enrollment remains low, and if we fail to graduate drift compatible teams next term, there will be serious pressure to close the Academy_."

**_To Be Continued..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** _ _The Jaeger Program is in trouble, and the pressure on the Rangers and crews is mounting. For Team Striker, it all comes to a head when J-Tech's unheeded warning comes true during a battle that ends in disaster in_ _**Chapter Forty: An Ounce of Prevention!** _
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Devi/Susanti Hassan: Rangers of Vulcan Specter, Australia's Mark-3 Jaeger. Sisters, ages 26 and 24, first-generation daughters of Indonesian immigrants to Australia who graduated Jaeger Academy's Class 2016-B along with the Beckets, Kennedy LaRue, and Stephanie Lanphier.
> 
> Kyrra Taior: Chief Engineer for Lucky Seven, then Striker Eureka. Aboriginal Australian, Herc's age. Youngest and sole surviving daughter of Marian Taior, an elderly aboriginal woman who occasionally looked after Chuck when he was younger. Susanti Hassan's long-term girlfriend.
> 
> Indra Hassan: Devi and Susanti's cousin, early 40s, failed the Jaeger Academy's second cut for drift compatibility but stayed on to become a LOCCENT technician. He serves the same role on Vulcan Specter's crew that Tendo Choi did for Gipsy Danger and now Striker Eureka.
> 
> Bobby Kanda/Ken Gould: Pilots of Mammoth Apostle, early 30s, US National Guardsmen. Bobby is Japanese-American, Ken is African-American. Previously stationed in Los Angeles.
> 
> Andrés Alcazar and Daniel Moreno: Matador Fury's Rangers, Mexican nationals, early 40s. Andrés was a historian and Daniel was a lawyer, both writing and working against institutional corruption before imprisoned for an unknown period. They were released along with other non-violent prisoners to attempt the Jaeger Academy, but have not yet been granted a pardon.
> 
> Brady Harris: Public Relations liaison for Yankee Star and its crew.
> 
> Tanisha Davis/Caleb Mitchell: Rangers of Yankee Star, America's Mark-2 Jaeger. Former US Marines in their 30s. Tanisha is African-American from Los Angeles, Caleb is from rural Oklahoma.
> 
> Dr. Lea Franklin - age 22, lived in San Jose, California. Sole survivor of K-Day out of her family because she was traveling abroad with a school group. Extremely gifted, but has intense social anxiety due to PTSD. Attended the Jaeger Academy with the Beckets and Tendo Choi in 2016 and became a J-Tech Engineer.
> 
> Dr. Priya Katwal: J-Tech senior Engineer, formerly NASA, now designs conn-pod support systems, Indian, late 50s.


	40. An Ounce of Prevention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Jaeger Program is in trouble, and the pressure on the Rangers and crews is mounting. For Team Striker, it all comes to a head when J-Tech's unheeded warning comes true during a battle that ends in disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** Many thanks to everyone for your continued support during the long delays! I'm happy to announce that Aurora Australis is, at last, fully drafted, so the last few updates will be coming more regularly! I've also got three more installments of Tales From The Front Lines in the queue!_

**Chapter Forty: An Ounce of Prevention**

_July 24, 2022...  
Sydney Shatterdome..._

" _Striker Eureka, report to Bay 01! Kaiju, codename Taurax, Category III!_ " the K-Watch officers on duty bellowed over the Dome intercom.

Chuck sat up and promptly whacked his head against the top bunk. "Ow, dammit! Fuck, a little movement in the Breach warning wouldn't be too much to ask!" He shook his head and deftly caught Max as the bulldog started to hop out of the bed, depositing him in the warm spot he'd left behind. "Stay here, Handsome, someone might as well get some beauty rest."

Herc's bare feet hit the floor as they were both diving for their jumpsuits, looking over their shoulders at the screen for the bogey blip. "Looks like he's moving almost due west. Damn, straight for the Philippines."

_And we're back to two mechs in service,_ Chuck thought wryly. The ghost drift probably wasn't quite strong enough for Herc to pick up exactly what he thought, but his old man got the gist of it.

They hurried out of quarters and found themselves in step next to Bobby and Ken on the way to the war room. "Water displacement's way below the trend. He's only about the size of Clawhook if sonar is accurate," Ken remarked. "It'll probably be double teams."

"So who holds down the fort this time?" Herc grumbled.

"Behave," Bobby scolded. He and Ken were ten years younger than Herc, but they were military men too, U.S. National Guard. Team Mammoth had set the trend of strict formality with Marshal Ketteridge, and Hansens and Tunaris had gone along with it.

So nobody muttered or wisecracked, though a lot of eyebrows did go up when Ketteridge announced he was deploying both Mammoth Apostle and Striker Eureka. "K-Watch is predicting the central Philippines. Striker Eureka, you'll meet Shaolin Rogue in Surigao City. Mammoth Apostle, you and Crimson Typhoon will be stationed in Mambajao. Taurax is making sixty kilometers per hour, ETA eighteen hours to Surigao."

"What's the word on the other deployments?" Herc asked Tendo once they were in the air.

"Vulcan and Tacit Ronin are going to Manila. Katana Eagle and Cherno Alpha are setting up in Puerto Princesa in case he gets all the way through the Bohol Sea without breaching the miracle mile. K-Watch thinks it's possible. This guy's a swimmer."

"So _now_ Ketteridge is willing to empty the clip?" Chuck murmured.

Tendo winked. "Who can say, huh? Romeo Blue and Diablo Intercept are coming across to hold down the fort in Sydney, and if the bogey does a runner, they may float out to join us."

The bogey was moving just fast enough that Herc and Chuck only had time to spend a few minutes chatting with Fei-Yen Wang and Huan Che of Shaolin Rogue before heading off to temporary headquarters to suit up. Marshal Ketteridge promptly got into an argument with General Liang over whether Striker or Shaolin should be in command of the mission. Some things never changed. The other commanders weighed in and finally overruled Ketteridge: Shaolin Rogue was the "senior" Jaeger by virtue of Chuck being the least experienced pilot, _and_ Shaolin had three kills to Striker's two.

Striker and Shaolin initiated their neural handshakes, and it looked like Taurax was headed straight for them, into the Surigao Strait. Herc and Chuck took Striker out as deep as they could ideally manage, up to their chest two miles off Punta Bilar, the peninsula point north of Surigao City. The smaller Shaolin Rogue took up a sentry position atop the rocky reefs a few hundred meters behind them.

"Confirm target sighted, bearing north-northwest, speed sixty-eight kilometers per hour," Chuck announced.

_"He's staying almost flat on the sea floor, Rangers,_ " warned K-Watch. _"If he hasn't noticed you already, he's definitely on the lookout for attackers!_ "

_We're gonna have a bloody hard time engaging him on the bottom,_ Herc thought grimly. The K-Stunners wouldn't work in full immersion. "Status of the evacuation?"

" _Dinagat Island west-side evacuation more than fifty percent complete - population is moving at all possible points, mostly on foot out of the cities. Southern Leyte has San Ricardo and the Port of San Ricardo over eighty percent evacuated - population is moving to into the mountains. Surigao City is forty percent evacuated."_

_"Prediction on kaiju's direction?"_ asked Fei-Yen.

" _Surigao City will be his target, Ranger. The runoff stream from that city runs directly into the strait with strong currents."_

"I was afraid you'd say that," Chuck muttered. "Shaolin, I don't like our position. We're too deep to move fast if he veers for shore."

_"Hold here until target passes Sumilon Island. We will take his bearings then,"_ Fei-Yen ordered.

Chuck was chafing at it, but managed to hold his peace. Herc could understand his reasoning; Striker was half-again as heavy as Shaolin, so getting the JumpHawks in to lift him was harder. But Shaolin had executed this maneuver with the eastern B-Team, which included Cherno Alpha. Fei-Yen knew what she was doing.

If Taurax veered sharply off his projected southward heading, he'd have to navigate thick underwater barriers of coral and rock, which would slow him down still more while Striker and Shaolin moved for the intercept. K-Watch was more worried about the deeper water directly between Leyte Island and Mindanao. Under normal conditions, it would be full of ferries and shipping traffic navigating the channels' deepest lanes, but most vessels had had time to reach port or abandon ship.

The kaiju did seem to be trying to keep to the deeps, but was finding it hard. Gradually, he did begin to move almost due south, following the current and the smoothest channel of seabottom straight towards Surigao City and the two waiting Jaegers.

" _Striker, move to Basol Island now that it is fully evacuated,"_ Fei-Yen ordered.

"Copy that." Herc looked up and mentally calculated their timetable. "We'll go on foot. Handshake's already initiated; it'll be faster."

_"Shall we race?"_ Shaolin's left hand, Huan, quipped.

Herc and Chuck grinned and they waded the two miles from their initial stance up into the shallows surrounding the tiny island to the northeast of Surigao City. Shaolin Rogue stepped daintily along the knife-edge ridges of coral reefs and rock in the narrow strait. Any heavier Jaeger would have crushed them.

_He looks like he's walking on water,_ Chuck observed. _That'll give the Buenakai something to think about!_

_Good, I won't be satisfied until we've got a cult of our own,_ Herc replied, and his son stifled a laugh. Herc's old joke about the "cult of the Jaegers" in metallic Snuggies remained a popular meme among Corps personnel.

The kaiju's faint spectral signature was harder to track from this angle, with so many reefs in the way, and Herc and Chuck gradually lost their humor and muttered obscenities each time it was hidden from view. The last thing they needed was to lose a bogey among so many heavily-populated islands. Fei-Yen and Huan weren't faring much better even in the middle of the strait, and all four of them were constantly yelling at the spotters on the com: "Do you have him?!"

Fortunately, by this stage, there were hundreds of choppers and drones in the airspace above and around them, hovering as low as they dared, all eyes and instruments trained on and under the surface from every angle.

_"The kaiju is rising - looks like he's going over those rock formations half a mile to the north of Basol, Striker! About to break the surface..."_

And... there he was, like some amphibian evolving legs as they watched, his flattish upper body falling against his sides as he rose out of the water on four legs, climbing over the shoals to stare at the two Jaegers awaiting him.

_Come on, you bloody bastard,_ Chuck was mentally snarling at it.

" _Hold all fire,"_ Fei-Yen warned. " _Do not challenge until he's committed._ " She was right; the last thing they needed was for this bastard to dive off the ledges and run. There was a lot of cover available in these reefs even for a kaiju.

That didn't stop Herc and Chuck's hands from itching to unleash every weapon in their arsenal at the sight of the disgusting thing. Like something halfway between tadpole and toad, slimy and oozing, half-formed. It didn't look like so many of the more recent invaders, spiny and armored.

But Herc and Chuck knew better than to make assumptions about the ease of an upcoming fight. Vaulimi in 2017 hadn't been armored, but it had managed to destroy the first Jaeger in combat, Talon Tasmania, and kill her newlywed pilots in the process. Grindylow and Clawhook had been of similar stock: leathery hide that hadn't yielded even to Gipsy Danger's plasma caster until they got the bastards at close range.

And this sort of kaiju tended to be especially wily. They all saw the way he gathered himself over his haunches. "Watch it, Shaolin, he's gonna jump," Chuck warned.

" _We see it."_ And Shaolin was ready. Taurax gathered his long limbs and launched himself at the smaller Jaeger, but in a flash, Shaolin's spear was brought to bear. The movement was so fast that Herc almost couldn't track it; Shaolin skewered the monster through the torso and deflected him at the same time, bringing him down on a sand bar between them and Striker. _"Dig in!"_

Taurax's screeches had a higher pitch than most kaiju, and Herc and Chuck winced, but they were grinning as they roared challenge and charged out to join Shaolin. The kaiju was still struggling to un-impale himself as they closed, and Shaolin moved out of the way so Herc and Chuck could put all their might behind the swings of their brass-knuckled fists into his head.

A flap of Taurax's long, flat tail made them stumble, but another nearly knocked Shaolin off his feet, and bought the bastard time to rip free of the spear. Blue spurted, but the skewering hadn't slowed the kaiju down nearly as much as it would have any self-respecting life-form, and it seemed to have only rendered Taurax shrieking mad. He hurled himself at Shaolin and overbalanced him backwards, forcing Herc and Chuck to leap forward and yank his slippery body back before he did their partner any major damage.

"Shaolin! You two all right?!" Chuck yelled into the comm.

They got a stream of Mandarin profanity until Huan panted, " _We're fine!_ " and Shaolin scrambled upright.

Herc and Chuck slammed their quarry into the seabed and deployed Herc's sling blade, plunging it into the wound Shaolin's spear had made, hoping to widen it to the point that Taurax wouldn't recover. More Blue gushed out, and Chuck yelled and swore as a glob of it spattered onto the junction of Striker's neck to his left shoulder.

"Fucker - _shit_ , it's getting into the joints, back off!"

" _We have him, Striker, fall back and get clean!"_ Shaolin came leaping like a Bruce Lee movie performer, the spear retrieved, and plunged it again into Taurax's torso while Herc and Chuck scrambled off the sandbar and threw themselves into the water.

"Shitshitshit that stings!" Chuck slapped at his collar until they'd cleaned the burning ichor off, and scrabbled for the diagnostic panel. "LOCCENT, are we intact?"

" _I think so, Striker, you've got external hull degraded, but internal layer looks okay. Hydraulics at full pressure, test pulses... hang on, I'm showing system degradation on your_ right _side! Herc, are you clean?"_

Herc pawed hurriedly at his own shoulder, but there was no telltale sting of Kaiju Blue or blown circuits. "No contamination here, not feeling anything either." He frowned at their instruments as they scrambled upright out of the deeper water to rejoin Shaolin. "That's not me... Chuck, I think it's that fault above your rig again." _Bloody wonderful._

Chuck growled up at the right connectors above his head. "Yeah, I can just feel it. Keep at eye on it, LOCCENT. It's not causing any problems now; we'll have J-Tech look at it after this run."

They lunged back into the fray to try to get Taurax from behind as he kicked Shaolin away. This kaiju was a bloody stayer even with two holes straight through his torso. At one point, he even got the spear away from Shaolin and would have managed to turn it on Striker if Shaolin hadn't had their handy magnetic recall, which whipped Taurax off his feet as the spear went flying back to Fei-Yen's hand.

Herc and Chuck threw him onto the deserted shore of Basol Island and launched their first round of K-Stunners, only to roar frustration when Taurax went flat and evaded all six before pile driving back into them off the beach, knocking them into Shaolin. _Is this fucker made of rubber?!_

_"Put him back down, Striker!"_ Herc and Chuck threw him off again as Shaolin Rogue scrambled ahead of them, bringing his own firearms to bear. _"Let's see him evade these!"_

Shaolin's chest projectiles were tiny, even smaller than the little Tiffany electromagnets that Lucky Seven had used to fire, and they blazed with incendiary chemicals like the tiny whirling "flying fish" fireworks that went off on holidays. Shaolin fired them from an autocannon above his reactor, wave after wave, and as four Rangers hoped, Taurax had no chance of dodging that bombardment.

The kaiju crashed backward onto the sand, screeching and clawing at his face as if he'd stirred up a beehive, but he was smart enough not to stay still long enough to remain a target and writhed his way back into the water. Cursing, Herc and Chuck lunged to catch him and try to hold him long enough for Shaolin to pin him down with the spear again.

It turned into a frustrating cycle. Neither Herc nor Chuck could recall any kaiju who'd taken so many hits while refusing to bloody lay down and die. Hour after hour of tearing and pummeling with blades, spear, and guns, to the point where Shaolin had run out of incendiary rounds and Striker was down to his last six K-Stunners, and Taurax was still very much alive and kicking. If Herc didn't know any better - or maybe he didn't - he'd have thought this kaiju could regenerate.

Worse, the fucker was trying to run. Striker face-planted into a coral shoal, rattling Herc and Chuck's teeth in their skulls as they held onto the long tail when Taurax tried to flee back towards the deeper water.

_"Hang on, Striker!"_ Shaolin came leaping right over them to spear down their prey, but Taurax flipped sideways and took the point in one of his front legs rather than his head.

_Dammit._ Herc and Chuck shook their heads in unison, rubbing their chin as they staggered back to their feet. That was going to leave bruises...

_"Chuck! You're down to seventy-three percent connectivity on your right side!"_ Tendo exclaimed. " _This is getting dangerous!_ "

Startled, Chuck tested his right hand, and Herc realized with him that amid the physical pounding they'd been getting, he hadn't noticed the growing pins-and-needles sensation. _Oh, shit._ "Okay, what do we do?" the kid demanded. "Other than finish this in a hurry?"

" _We_ are _hurrying,_ " Huan added from Shaolin, sounding cross as gashed their spear down Taurax's side. " _This thing refuses to die!"_

_"You're at eleven hours, Rangers. Your handshakes are still strong, but we're gonna mobilize back-up_ ," said LOCCENT. " _Crimson Typhoon and Mammoth Apostle are lifting off from Mambajao, ETA one hour!"_

Herc couldn't deny that the sense of possessiveness in Striker's drift didn't only come from Chuck. _Mammoth's run out of ammo before,_ his son thought sourly.

Yet Typhoon's plasma generators wouldn't run dry, and two fresh Jaegers joining the fray might finally put this bloody mutant frog down for good... if Striker and Shaolin couldn't finish him off in the next hour, anyway. Well, that'd be nice to accomplish under any circumstances; they were all getting tired.

If Fei-Yen and Huan were of the same mind, they didn't say out loud, but Shaolin brought the spear down that much harder in the next thrust at Taurax, and Herc and Chuck tried to physically deposit the bastard onto the point. But even as Herc sensed the growing imbalance in their sensory input on the right side, a new voice came onto the comms from LOCCENT.

It was Priya Katwal. " _Striker, you have a serious malfunction. Left hemisphere's right side is at less than fifty-percent response!"_ Chuck flexed his right hand and realized in a rush of dismay that although he could move, he was nearly numb throughout the arm and leg. He shot a glance at Herc, and alarm flashed through the drift. " _Typhoon, Mammoth, get a move on! I want Striker out!"_

_"We can manage for an hour,"_ Fei-Yen put in. " _Target is too disabled to retreat at speed. We'll hold him._ "

But Chuck blurted out a protest even as another familiar (unwelcome) voice came over the comm. " _Hang on, that's an overreaction! His vitals are fine,"_ Marshal Ketteridge protested.

"I can finish this!' Chuck insisted.

_"If Striker goes out of alignment,_ neither _of them will be fine!_ " Tendo argued.

Herc hesitated, and they circled Taurax warily as the kaiju pulled himself back up, oozing a slick of Blue in the churned water, measuring the two Jaegers. "Typhoon, Mammoth, where are you?"

" _We are in emergency deployment, Striker,"_ said one of the Wei triplets. " _Fifty miles to your position; we can be there within an hour._ "

" _We can manage!"_ insisted Huan.

" _I_ can manage!" Chuck shot back.

Herc buzzed Hong Kong. General Liang was in command, not Ketteridge. "What's the order, General?"

" _Didn't you bloody reprimand me for wanting to let a Jaeger fight solo?"_ interrupted Ketteridge. Herc couldn't deny a deep, nagging fear of disaster if they retreated from the fight and left Shaolin alone against this stinking immortal thing, but he was loath to sound like he was siding with Ketteridge.

Then they heard Kyrra's voice. " _Herc, Chuck, listen, not only is your connection going off, but your heat sensors are off the charts over Chuck's right shoulder - right by the oxygen lines! We don't know what's causing it, but if the oxygen blows or a hydraulic line ruptures, you're crippled! Priya's right; you need to fall back and power down now!"_

Herc faltered, but Chuck was chanting at him in the drift. _I can do it. I can make it - Dad, we_ can't _leave our partner like this!_

It wasn't just Chuck's ego talking. Taurax was still far too spry after eleven hours of combat; if Shaolin ran into trouble out here alone... neither of them could live with it. "Let's get this done!" They lunged, Herc paying close attention to the balance of his right arm, since it was heavier now than it had been.

The fact that Shaolin didn't protest anymore was a suggestion in the back of their minds that Fei-Yen and Huan weren't all that keen to take over solo, whatever their bold claims. Nor did General Liang overrule them.

" _You can finish this, Chuck,"_ Ketteridge had the gall to crow, but Taurax was coming to meet their new offensive and there was no more time to listen to the asshole.

They slammed bodily into each other, trying to wrench Taurax over backwards. "Shaolin, we need to pin him and chop him up 'till he stops moving!"

" _Just put your weight on the neck and keep off the teeth! We'll do the rest,"_ Huan ordered.

"Copy - that!" Chuck grunted, and they drove their right knee down, holding both hands against the slippery neck to keep from being bitten. The upper claws swiped painfully across the surface of their hull, but if they could just...keep this bastard down a few more minutes... Shaolin could bloody cut him in half.

But they had it in their sights! "We have a shot, we take it!" Herc shouted. "Arming missiles!" They had the bastard ready for a point-blank hit, all they had to do was hold on.

The thing screamed and bucked, and it was taking all their weight and muscle to keep from getting thrown off... if the trouble spot had been Chuck's primary side, they wouldn't have managed it, but Herc was the one in control of the right side of the Jaeger, he just had to make sure he could still... _feel..._

His shoulder was burning. Chuck was starting to gasp, teeth clenched as he squinted over his shoulder, and then the conn-pod lights turned red, and voiced shouted over the comm: _"Striker! Chuck, you've got no connection - hydraulic line compromised - "_

"FUCK!" Herc's arm gave and they toppled forward - Chuck screamed and grabbed his head - he was burning -

The kaiju lurched half-upright as they released their hold, Blue gushing from its mouth - Chuck and Herc instinctively swung into defensive position, but they were heavy, off-balance and Chuck couldn't feel his right side.

_Missiles!_ They braced - fucker had to be too close to dodge - but Herc's chest door opened... Chuck's didn't.

Alarms blared, and Herc couldn't - no, _Chuck_ couldn't breathe -

" _Striker, you've got multiple system malfunctions!"_

"Warning: left side chest array malfunction. Missiles armed."

Couldn't open the doors... Chuck growled, panting, and pawed at his chest - the hydraulics were down, but the launchers would work - _hang on!_

_"_ Wait!" Herc shouted aloud, but his son locked his left hand over the edge of the chest cover and physically tore it free to expose the missiles.

_We have a shot, we take it! Fire! Fire now!_ It was coming at them, only one arm moving, its bloody jaws open wide - they blinked at it through blurred vision, but still had enough control - the missiles launched...

Detonations flared, and Herc clumsily staggered back to shield himself, but was tripping over his own feet because Chuck couldn't move to match him anymore, couldn't -

"Warning: oxygen line compromised. Fire sup - pres - sys - "

_Can't - feel - Dad -_

" _Striker!_ "

Herc shouted, and the conn-pod was tilting - no, not the pod, _Chuck -_ a sizzling noise, crashing and a sickening _pop!_ inside his head, and Chuck was disengaged -

\- no, not disengaged, but he was falling, his left side still in the rig, but the entire right connection had given -

\- light and heat lanced through Herc's body and his head - but not burning him, Chuck was screaming, his muscles seizing as the drivesuit's signals cascaded and seemed to burn straight through his nerves and - he - couldn't -

\- _Lucky was falling and Scott was screaming and something was roaring outside -_

\- the drift was tearing apart -

\- _Herc was ripping free of the drift_ -

\- _no, wait_ , he didn't want to lose the drift - not now, not from Chuck - _Chuck! Where are you what happened no why can't I feel you -_

Herc clawed helplessly to his left, his hands only finding his own harness mount, his eyes seeing his son, hanging off-balance and dead limp in the half-fastened harness... no answer, no more sensation in the drift, the handshake was gone, Chuck wasn't moving - _god no my son my boy, Chuck, CHUCK!_

Something slammed into them and now they were falling backwards, and there was fire and smoke, and then Herc was on his back, looking up as the front of the conn-pod ripped away and glowing, vicious blue eyes seared in seeming to look right at him -

"Chuck!" Herc scrabbled for the controls. _Escape pod - yes, yes, get Chuck out before the fucker gets in -_ shit, the rig was broken, he'd have to crank Chuck up by hand - _that's okay, just get to -_

The kaiju's screech was deafening with no more conn-pod shielding to muffle it and Herc gasped in pain - something crashed outside and they were falling - he caught a dizzy glimpse of his son's body tumbling like a doll down into the superstructure - the whole left rig had come loose - _NO!_

Herc ripped free of the harness - he'd fall too now, but he didn't care, had to get to Chuck -

All he could see was the motionless figure sprawled against the side bulkhead, he clawed through debris and broken wires and sparks and -

Water. It was inside, the hull was gone, and water was rolling, rolling towards them...

Herc reached Chuck and rolled his boy over. The face plate was smashed, blood, there was so much blood on his face, burns too... his eyes were closed...

"No, _no..._ "

Water was rolling in a wave - _we're sinking..._

No time. He wrapped an arm around his boy's chest and dragged him back into the conn-pod, but the water was coming up faster -

He fell against the shattered, burned-out remnants of Chuck's rig, and looked back.

Water... but it had stopped, and they were somewhat upright... it was quiet now. Panting, Herc blinked at it, then looked down at the heavy form in his arms. "Chuck?" he whispered. _No... no..._ He couldn't feel the handshake... it had broken, failed - _why,_ Herc hadn't broken it this time, not like before... but even as he pawed at Chuck's helmet, it dawned on him.

He still had the ghost drift. It was still there... an echo of shock, pain, lightning and heat... breath...

Herc clawed his helmet off and pulled his boy up to his face.

In the silence, he could hear it. In the ghost drift, he could feel it: Chuck was breathing. He was alive.

" _Herc! Chuck, do you hear us?_ "

Herc blinked and looked up. The voice was distorted, over a speaker... then the sunlight was blocked, and Striker swayed around him...a face was in front of the torn-out hull - no, not a face, another Jaeger's conn-pod... Shaolin Rogue. It was Huan, calling out on their external speaker...

" _We've got you! Just hang on!_ "

Herc's lips moved, but nothing came out. There was nothing to do but hang on. No more sound of the kaiju, but his son was bloody and unconscious and burned in his arms. Helicopter rotors buzzed somewhere, and Herc floated in the echo of the drift and clutched his boy.

_Help me... help him, please..._

" _Herc, we see you. Help is coming."_ Now it was a woman's voice. Fei-Yen? " _Do not move. Rescue chopper is coming in."_

She kept up a running commentary on the R&R crew's position and reassurances that were all but meaningless in his ears, but the sound of a voice was somehow comforting. But Herc didn't believe her or anyone else who said it would be all right.

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** _ _Team Striker Eureka, their crew, and their friends face a nightmare scenario in Chuck's severe injuries, and the entire Jaeger Program reels from the public relations onslaught over the damage to their most sophisticated Jaeger and youngest pilot in_ _**Chapter Forty-One: A Pound of Cure!** _
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Marshal Blake Ketteridge: Commanding Officer of Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force.
> 
> Devi/Susanti Hassan: Rangers of Vulcan Specter, Australia's Mark-3 Jaeger. Sisters, ages 26 and 24, first-generation daughters of Indonesian immigrants to Australia who graduated Jaeger Academy's Class 2016-B along with the Beckets, Kennedy LaRue, and Stephanie Lanphier.
> 
> Kyrra Taior: Chief Engineer for Lucky Seven, then Striker Eureka. Aboriginal Australian, Herc's age. Youngest and sole surviving daughter of Marian Taior, an elderly aboriginal woman who occasionally looked after Chuck when he was younger. Susanti Hassan's long-term girlfriend.
> 
> General He Liang: Commanding officer of Hong Kong Shatterdome, Chinese Army, mid-60s. He and Stacker Pentecost clashed when Stacker intervened on behalf of the pilots of Shaolin Rogue, but because Liang's granddaughter is close friends with Mako, the two men are irrevocably connected.
> 
> Bobby Kanda/Ken Gould: Pilots of Mammoth Apostle, early 30s, US National Guardsmen. Bobby is Japanese-American, Ken is African-American. Previously stationed in Los Angeles.
> 
> Fei-Yen Wang/Huan Che: Pilots of Shaolin Rogue, China's Mark-3. Fei-Yen is one of China's first generation of female fighter pilots, and Huan was formerly one of her plane crew. They were in a long-term, clandestine-by-orders relationship, because the Chinese Commanding Officers wanted the beautiful Fei-Yen to continue serving as the untouchable poster girl for propaganda, or at least by the side of a handsomer man than Huan.
> 
> Dr. Lea Franklin - age 22, lived in San Jose, California. Sole survivor of K-Day out of her family because she was traveling abroad with a school group. Extremely gifted, but has intense social anxiety due to PTSD. Attended the Jaeger Academy with the Beckets and Tendo Choi in 2016 and became a J-Tech Engineer.
> 
> Dr. Priya Katwal: J-Tech senior Engineer, formerly NASA, now designs conn-pod support systems, Indian, late 50s.


	41. A Pound of Cure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Striker Eureka, their crew, and their friends face a nightmare scenario in Chuck's severe injuries, and the entire Jaeger Program reels from the public relations onslaught over the damage to their most sophisticated Jaeger and youngest pilot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** Many thanks to everyone for sticking with this story and continuing to give such amazing feedback! Special welcome to the new readers who've made themselves known - it's a thrill you can't imagine to find out new readers are getting into this fic and series!_

**Chapter Forty-One: A Pound of Cure**

_July 25, 2022…  
Mindananao, Phillippines… _

_No. Nonono, God, please, no..._ An endless chant of desperation echoed on and on in Kyrra's head as the rescue crews lowered down onto Striker's torn frame. _Not Chuck, not our boy, God, not this, anything but this, please -_

Shaolin Rogue had torn the carcass of Taurax off Striker before the kaiju's weight forced him underwater. The smaller Jaeger was now holding Striker above the waterline so he didn't sink with the pilots inside.

_"He's alive,_ " the EMTs reported on the comm. " _Massive injuries. Striker One reports the left hemisphere rig failed. We need to get him directly to the trauma center."_

_"PPDC Chopper Vibby Alpha, this is Surigao City Air Traffic Control. We're grounding all non-emergency traffic. You're cleared to proceed immediately to Caraga Regional Hospital. The trauma team is on standby."_

"What's the condition of Striker One?"

" _No major injuries, but severe drift shock and distress."_ The EMTs made it sound so clinical and rational, but Kyrra could see in her mind the condition that Herc Hansen had to be in at this moment.

Shaolin Rogue might as well have been a statue. As the choppers delicately hovered in to lower the rescue rig for Herc and Chuck, China's Mark-3 braced Striker Eureka's head and torso above the water line, and didn't move an inch. Kyrra held her breath, watching the rig rise back up with the khaki-suited figures on board, one prone, and the other hovering over him.

Kyrra stood rigid, deaf to the sounds of the temporary LOCCENT around her and blind to everything but those small figures being lifted into Greg Oliver's chopper. She did hear the soft gasps and murmurs of relief when Greg reported, " _All strike troopers and Rangers on board. Departing for hospital immediately."_ Vibby Alpha zipped away so quickly that the cameras on the nearby spotters had trouble keeping track of it.

With Herc and Chuck evacuated, Fei-Yen and Huan got to work on their partner Jaeger. _"We're bringing him onto the beach, LOCCENT,_ " Huan announced. Like a lifeguard with a stricken swimmer, Shaolin Rogue moved with his arms wrapped around Striker's chest, hauling the bigger Jaeger on the surface through the shallows until they came ashore on Basol Island.

Kyrra stared at the video feed. Striker lay prone on the sand at Shaolin's feet. The engineering crews and diagnostic techs were already gathering into teams, waiting for her orders. Moving on autopilot, she dispatched them all to start examining Striker. She had a job to do, she reminded herself, and it didn't involve joining the crowd hovering around the hospital...

"Hey." She looked up and saw Tendo looking at her with intense eyes. There was far too much understanding in his gaze. "Go," he said. "They're gonna need you."

She hesitated. "We have damage reports due."

"Yeah, and the crews are already moving out. We all know the routine, but they'll want a report on Chuck and Herc." Tendo held out his hand for her tablet, and after a moment, she gave it to him. Something in Tendo's eyes got to her, or maybe it was the tight set of his jaw or the way he was hunching his shoulders.

_He's bracing for bad news._ Everybody on the crew probably was. To say nothing of the other crews. Kyrra turned the Calum Riley, her second-in-command for the J-Techs, and he nodded. "Okay. You've got the helm until I have word from the medics."

The updates that she received from Greg Oliver had the barest bones of hope: _Chuck's alive. In intensive care._

When she got to the hospital, there were enough PPDC security around to let her past the many blocks into the secured wards. There, outside surgery, she found Fei-Yen Wang and Huan Che, with Herc between them - alone.

"Pilots aren't supposed to be separated," was the first thing that crawled out of her brain.

Huan shot her a bleak look. "Unless it is life or death," he finished.

Kyrra would never forget the look on Herc Hansen's face at that moment. _Like he's waiting for the end of the world._

Some pilots went completely berserk if their partner's injury forced them apart after a fight. Herc was silent and unmoving, staring through the glass at the the movement in the operating room. Kyrra doubted he was aware of anyone or anything else. She went cautiously towards him, mindful of triggering him to lash out, but Fei-Yen and Huan didn't try to stop her, and when she spoke, no one was surprised that Herc didn't react.

She parked herself in a corner with the other personnel muttering amongst themselves and checking updates from the diagnostic teams. From J-Tech, Priya Katwal and Lea Franklin were on-site as soon as the environmental teams decided Striker wasn't contaminated, and everyone winced as Priya's first remark came over the comm: " _The primary rig mountings for the upper right of the left hemisphere are completely melted. They dripped onto his oxygen line until the line failed and ignited. It's lucky the pilot wasn't killed by the explosion alone!"_

It was at that _extremely_ inopportune moment that Marshal Blake Bloody Ketteridge walked into the room. Kyrra supposed it was to the Marshal's credit that he tried to be discreet, just murmuring to one of the crew about Chuck's condition, but then Herc abruptly stood. "Where're you going, mate?" Greg asked him in surprise.

Herc turned to face Ketteridge, and Kyrra's stomach dropped at the feral look in his eyes, the black steadiness of his voice as he answered: "Prison."

He didn't even make it half a step, thank God, because half the people in the room dove for him. "Whoa! Uh-uh, no, Herc, that's not what you're doing!"

"Sir, you, ah, really ought to get out of here!"

"Herc, look at me!" Kyrra wriggled through the group and snapped her fingers in front of Herc's face. He let out an inarticulate growl, eyes on Ketteridge.

The Marshal backed toward the door in shock. "Ranger - "

"Don't - say - anything!" Fei-Yen thundered, rounding on him. He reared back, and even the MP's looked shaken. She pointed at the door. "Out! Your presence is not needed, _sir._ "

She was imposing enough on her own, but Herc was practically frothing at the mouth. He hissed through his teeth at Ketteridge, "Run. Run now, you bastard, 'cause if my kid dies, I _will_ kill you."

A doctor burst out of the surgery room as Kyrra, Greg, and Huan kept Herc in a bear hug between each other. "He will not die." Everyone looked up. The doctor removed her mask and focused on Herc, who stared at her with crazed eyes. She didn't flinch. "Your son is stable, Ranger," she said. Kyrra jammed her teeth onto the inside of her mouth. "He must recover from internal injuries, concussion, and shock, but he will. He is not going to die." Someone's breath caught, but Kyrra didn't dare look around. The doctor turned briskly towards Ketteridge. "Your regulations require that Ranger Hansen remain here until his co-pilot is released, Marshal. We will make a written report to you."

In other words, Blake Ketteridge was not needed and definitely not wanted.

Herc shifted, and Kyrra readied herself to restrain him from another explosion of violence, but he was looking back towards the operating room window. When he glanced around, he no longer seemed to see anyone, not even Ketteridge. He looked at Kyrra for only a few seconds, then his eyes went glassy. "My head," he mumbled, trying to steady himself on the wall. She and Greg caught him as he sagged. His plaintive voice tugged at her heart as he reached vaguely for the window again, "My s- " and went limp in their arms.

* * *

_Manila, Philippines…_

"LOCCENT, we need leave to get to Surigao City," Devi yelled as their crew tried to wrestle them out of the drivesuits on the Jumphawks.

" _We're asking Colonel Okita to give you leave - "_

" – and we're _not_ bloody asking, so either she gives it to us or we go without it!" Suze snapped.

The ghost drift seethed with their panic and their rage, and they struggled with the drivesuit and roared at their chopper pilot, Erin Riley, when she landed on the Manila base instead of making straight for Surigao City. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Overruled, ma'am." At any other moment, they'd be on a first-name basis. Erin was tense in the face of their ranting, but she didn't back down. "Post-deployment regs are that you finish the stand-down protocols."

"Overruled by whom?" Devi shot back. "Are we not the ranking officers on-site, or does that only hold for the male Rangers?"

"It holds when _any_ Rangers are in distress and out of control," announced Indra, striding up to join them, undaunted by their snarls. He gestured for Erin and the chopper to carry on and waggled his phone at his cousins. "That's why Team Striker didn't let Herc settle Ketteridge with his fists just now, and why you two aren't going to charge in there like the wrath of God."

Devi glared at him. Of all the moments for Indra to pick back up with the old older-and-wiser cousin routine. "We're not in drift shock, and some things are more important than regs."

Indra folded his arms. "No doubt of that. There's nothing more important than being there for Chuck and Herc - which is why I'm not letting you two near them until you get a grip on yourselves."

Devi's throat went so tight that she couldn't talk, even though she was still spitting mad... oh. That was Suze, not her, swinging violently from outrage to anguish. Suze was desperate, afraid of any delay, and suddenly Devi knew why: _We stayed last time, we obeyed orders and didn't go, and then Raleigh was gone and we never saw him again. Maybe if we'd been at Yancy's funeral, we could have helped. If Herc loses Chuck..._

Indra spoke again, a little more gently. "You won't be able to help them if you're losing it too. Herc will need us thinking straight."

"He's right," Erin said from behind them.

Deflated, Suze looked at Devi. "What if Okita wants us back now?"

"She won't." That was Danny Oliver, upset and worried too, but keeping a grip on it far better than his senior trainers. "Okita's not a control freak like Ketteridge. She'll give you leave to visit Herc and Chuck for at least a week or so after an event. We'll go back to Tokyo." Evie nodded, her arms around Danny from behind. "There shouldn't be a mob at the hospital, and they'd rather have you than us."

Devi and Suze gave in, going through de-suiting in silence, and by the time they checked in with the lift crews who would take Vulcan and Team Tacit Ronin back to Nagasaki, Erin and Indra had secured results: Colonel Okita had granted them ten days' leave.

Nine hours after Taurax was destroyed, Devi and Suze Hassan finally made it to the hospital.

"Chuck's going to make it," Indra assured them. "Kyrra said the surgeon told Herc the minute they'd finished operating. He's got internal injuries, broken ribs, a concussion, and a nasty electric shock, but he's stable."

"What about Herc?" Suze murmured.

"Physically, he's fine. Bruises, drivesuit burns." Indra didn't get into what kind of non-physical injuries Herc had, and nobody needed to ask.

The security officers and medics let the Hassans pass without question. Herc and Chuck were in the highest security section of the intensive care unit. Kyrra met them outside the private room, looking tired and drained, but didn't seem averse to them coming in at once. "Are they asleep?" Devi asked.

"Chuck's still under. Herc's...in and out." She leaned against the doorway, and Suze only brushed past her as they entered. There were too many people around, though Devi knew her sister wanted to pull her girlfriend into her arms, for both of them to feel better.

But above all, every one of them wanted to _not_ see the two figures in the hospital room, one motionless in bed swathed in bandages, attached to tubes and lines and beeping machinery, the other half-alert, leaning against the bedside with lost, red eyes.

_Oh, boyo._ Neither of them bothered to say anything out loud. But when Devi came around to his side, Herc did look at her. Suze came to his other side, putting an arm around his shoulders and stroking Chuck's cheek with her free hand.

They had all known in the back of their minds that this might happen. This would probably have happened. The majority of pilots wound up in hospital from at least one major injury at some point in their careers. Chuck Hansen was no different.

Or so they kept telling themselves. It didn't work.

* * *

The drift was burning, searing with tendrils like the trawlers of a jellyfish, stinging Chuck up and down his body. He couldn't scream or even move. He was burning, and worse than that, he was alone. _Alone..._ after the drift, it was even worse than pain.

_Where am I? What happened, why... why am I alone..._ He couldn't even remember what he was missing. He floated, helpless and scared, wracked with pain under a layer of some suffocating, numbing ooze in his mind, until...

_Chuck?_ It was muffled in the tar-like numbness darkening and muting his surroundings and awareness, but finally, he heard... or maybe felt another voice. Someone else was here. _Chuck, son, it's okay. You're not alone; your old man's here._

_Old m...Dad?_ Why was his mind moving so slow? He couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't feel properly! _What's going on? Where am I?_

_Easy, boyo. I'm here. You're medicated to the gills from the pounding you took, that's all. Just rest. We've got the ghost drift, and I'm right next to you. Rest. It'll get better._

Chuck didn't understand. All his senses felt blotted out and muffled, as if he were suspended in a tar of nothingness. If Dad weren't here... he'd have no way to orient himself at all. So he held out his mental arms, and felt Dad reach back. With Dad anchoring him, he could just let go and drift.

* * *

The next time he woke, he remembered at once. Sort of.

_Dad?! Dad…_ He could hear the beep and hiss of hospital machines. He grimaced and tried to force his eyes open through what he knew was a haze of medicine. He felt strangely detached from his body. But gradually, it responded, and he could just sense someone close by, at his right side.

Dad looked ragged, like he hadn't showered or slept in a few weeks. He was closer than Chuck could recall him being in a long time... well, except when they'd been in hospital that night after Ceramander. Hospital...so that was what was going on. Chuck had been hurt. He remembered hurting. There'd been the stench of burning plastic and searing pain, pain beyond just what came through the neural relays.

His right arm was numb. He clumsily tested his fingers, and his foggy brain managed to register that they could move. Dad's hand was on his arm. He was so numb he shouldn't have been able to feel that, but in his mind, Chuck was aware of it.

Herc sat up then, watching, and let out a long breath in sync with Chuck's. "You'll be okay, kid," he whispered. For a second, Chuck wondered why he was whispering... then the answer came to him: Herc's voice was too rough to talk out loud. _I thought I'd lost you._ A wave of consternation followed that thought.

Chuck tried to ask what happened, but all that escaped his throat was an incoherent mumble. "Chuck?!" someone exclaimed. He blinked, and a vague, dark vision hovered behind his father. Chuck couldn't seem to bring her into focus, but in the ghost drift, he worked it out. Herc knew who it was. "You awake, lad?" It was Kyrra. There were two others in the room: Devi and Susanti. But for some reason, Chuck could only seem to make out his dad.

"Wants to know what happened," Herc murmured. Chuck felt Kyrra pat his dad's shoulder.

"That's three kills for you," she informed him. "You sent those missiles straight into Taurax's vital organs, but the bastard fell on you and breached the conn-pod. Shaolin got him off Striker before he pushed you under the water."

Chuck didn't remember water. He'd been trying to fire the missiles when all his controls went dead, and currents seared through the suit and into his skin. Something had burned, he'd screamed, and then... darkness. The last thing he remembered was being in the drift, reaching wildly for Dad, but a whirlpool of scorching darkness had sucked him away.

The handshake had broken. So that was what it felt like.

_Like our brains getting ripped in half...Dad's felt like that twice,_ his wandering mind observed. He stared through bleary eyes at his father, baffled. _How'd you get through? It hurt so bad._

_I'm fine._ That was a lie. Chuck knew it. Why would Dad say that when he knew Chuck was still ghosting in his mind? _Don't worry about me, boyo. You just rest. I want you to get better._ That wasn't a lie. Dad wanted him to rest. Dad wouldn't be able to think about anything else until Chuck was okay.

_Okay._ He wanted Dad to not be scared. They were co-pilots. It was their job, and... Herc was his dad. Chuck wanted Dad to be okay. So he closed his eyes and felt Dad's hand on his until he slept again.

* * *

**_Striker Eureka: A Monument to Waste_ **

_Without a doubt, people throughout the Philippines, Australia, and Hawaii owe their lives to the three deployments of Australia's last Jaeger. But the engagement with kaiju Taurax showed how severely misguided our reliance on these grandiose walking weapons really is, and nearly cost the life of the youngest pilot in the program._

_It's a tremendous relief that Chuck Hansen is expected to recover, but the malfunction and explosion that injured him exposed the critical faults in the Jaeger's design. Incredibly, the majority of the United Nations still favors trying to repair and recommission the Jaeger, whose head and control systems will have to be completely redesigned and rebuilt, rather than admitting their mistake and focusing vital resources elsewhere._

_God help us all when the kaiju finally smash up all these giant decoys beyond repair, and Planet Earth is left without a Plan B._

* * *

"We have a shot, we take it!

" It was like a gong in Herc's mind, vibrating over and over with waves of nausea and shame, and he couldn't silence it even as Chuck started to wake up, more aware each time as the drugs were cut back. _I did this. We were malfunctioning. I just had to get in one last shot, and I nearly killed my son._

He waited in numb anticipation for the post-engagement reports. Under the regulations, he was supposed to be writing one of his own, but for those first few days looking at his son attached to tubes and lines and drugged unconscious, Herc didn't give a damn. Chuck would be in recovery for months. Striker would be in refit even longer, assuming he could be refitted at all. Even if the Jaeger could be repaired, whether Ketteridge and the UN would be willing to spend the money was doubtful.

Especially since Herc had a vague memory of taking a swing at Ketteridge. _I'll kill you. If my son dies, I will kill you._ Had that really happened, or had Herc just dreamed it? Ketteridge hadn't been in evidence since.

It was the questions in Chuck's mind as he grew more alert during his conscious time that finally pushed Herc to ask: "What happened to Striker? Can he be salvaged?" _Will the UN allow it?_

"J-Tech thinks it can be done," said Suze. She and Devi were keeping vigil at Herc and Chuck's side, but Indra had firmly informed them that after ten days, they would have to return to Nagasaki.

"J-Tech, okay, but what about Ketteridge and the UN? Are they ready to gamble more money on me?" _The man who failed two partners?_ His brother and his son. Herc hadn't been able to pilot successfully with either of them. He'd wrecked two Jaegers. Maybe Chuck would have gone on to be a successful jockey... with another co-pilot. Someone who wasn't his father and could look at him and just see a co-pilot and not a boy.

"Fei-Yen and Huan are calling for Striker to be repaired," Devi told him. "They have a lot of public support. Most of us have gone public to push for it too."

Herc didn't find that thought reassuring, but he supposed that it would ease Chuck's mind to know they hadn't lost Striker. "I know I took a swing at Ketteridge."

"We know. Kyrra told us." Suze made a soft noise that might have been a chuckle. "The medics reported that you were in major drift shock and not responsible for your actions." A snort escaped Herc, and both Hassans smirked.

* * *

_August 1, 2022…  
Sydney Shatterdome…_

A week after the engagement, the UN voted by a narrow margin to repair Striker Eureka. Herc didn't watch the hearings, but Kyrra and Tendo reluctantly told him that the speeches against the Jaeger Program seemed a lot more impassioned than the ones that favored "staying the course." They didn't tell Chuck that. He'd find out, of course, once he was released from the hospital and keeping up with current events again. But until that happened, everyone on Team Striker and Team Vulcan came to a mutual, unspoken decision not to mention the scathing press releases that appeared in multiple countries' news outlets:

**_Three Strikes Eureka: The UN Doubles Down on a Useless Defense!_ **

**_$150 Billion Down the Drain - the PPDC Goes for Broke!_ **

**_The Pacific Rim is Humanity's Vietnam!_ **

With Striker and the Hansens on the sidelines, Vulcan Specter was returned to Sydney Shatterdome to hold down the fort with Mammoth Apostle. Ketteridge wanted Coyote Tango to stay on, but the Japanese insisted on getting her back if they couldn't keep Vulcan. The compromise ended up being that Tacit Ronin would stay on as well to give Sydney three active Jaegers.

As for Chuck, the kid was quiet and alarmingly cooperative with the medics as the drugs were cut back and he spent more time conscious. Herc knew the crew was worried, and he shared it, but at one point, Chuck actually told him, "Take it easy, I'm not going to just give up because I'm grounded by the medics. I know that happens with combat."

From what Herc could tell through the ghost drift, Chuck wasn't lying. He was unhappy about being laid up, knowing that between his injuries and Striker's damage, they could be grounded for months or years, but the black despair that had gripped him approaching his eighteenth birthday was absent. _Now just shy of his nineteenth birthday, his father nearly got him killed._

_Quit that, old man._ The kid's voice came through the ghost drift as clear as if they were still in the conn-pod. Chuck was cross, but not nearly as bad as he could just felt tired and resigned. _If I'm not allowed to feel sorry for myself, neither are you._

Well...it was a fair point.

Herc and Chuck had open options as to where to be reassigned for Chuck's physical therapy. "You don't have to be in the Sydney Shatterdome, you know," Dr. Dahari told them. "You might find the passage of time easier to tolerate if you're not there witnessing engagements when you can't deploy."

They mulled over that during their last days in Surigao City before the Philippine doctors released Chuck. Both of them initially thought it would be worse to be exiled while Chuck was in rehab, especially now that Devi and Suze were back in Sydney.

On the other hand... "Understand that the first time there's a deployment from Sydney, it will be very hard on you," Dahari warned. Herc got the impression that she was pushing him to make the call while addressing the emotional part of it to Chuck. The kid was quiet. "Rangers have become distraught - and no, I'm not impugning your character or your self-control," she added, mostly to Chuck. Herc managed not to wince. Under any other circumstances, she'd be right to be defensive, because the kid would be bristling at such an implication. Now, however, he wasn't. She went on, "You're a combat pilot now with a major injury. Add the drift to that, and there isn't a Ranger past or present whose reactions aren't affected. Alerts are a tense, stressful time under the best of circumstances."

Herc sighed, and worked out what she was diplomatically trying not to say outright. "You mean it's not just for our own sake. It'll stress out the crew to have us there while we're grounded."

Dahari nodded. "With the Hassans back in Sydney and Marshal Ketteridge still in command, there are certain, let's say, 'aggravating factors' for all concerned."

"So we hang around the Shatterdome like dead weight without our Jaeger, or we go into exile," Chuck muttered.

While Herc was still waffling on whether to snap at the kid or console him, Dr. Dahari just waited until he met her eyes and said in a level voice, "We all know it's neither of those things, Ranger."

Chuck dropped his eyes, relenting without so much as a huff. Herc's insides tightened up, but to his surprise, his boy suddenly looked at him. _Relax, old man, I'll live._ "So where are we supposed to go, then?"

"There's no 'supposed to' about it, but I was going to suggest Brisbane. That's where Striker is being refitted, and it's where you originally trained. They have a full simulator for when your physical therapy is complete, and it's still close to your Dome."

_Also close to Devi and Suze,_ Herc mused. Would Ketteridge be less inclined to give the Hassans leave to visit their family in Brisbane if Herc and Chuck were there?

_They'd tell us that's their problem._ Again, the answer came clearly from his son, with a flicker of dry amusement. Herc felt his own lips twitch.

A "happy medium" might not be quite the right term - there was nothing very "happy" about being grounded for god-knew-how-long, but they'd be away from Ketteridge while still being on a PPDC base, able to observe the repairs to their mech and at least slightly removed from that sense of complete impotence that came from being in a Shatterdome and unable to deploy, like when Lucky had been grounded back in 2016.

Chuck met Herc's eyes and nodded. "Brisbane it is, then."

* * *

_August 14, 2022...  
PPDC Assembly Facility, Brisbane, Australia…_

Chuck's nineteenth birthday was a quiet event, though he knew the crew was going out of their way to make it a nice one. Much to his and Herc's surprise, even Ketteridge seemed to have done them favors. He gave the Hassans and most of their senior crew a day's leave to visit Brisbane.

They brought food and gifts, and occupied the Assembly Facility mess hall for the entire day, playing cards and chess for hours. It was the first day since waking up in the hospital that Chuck had felt truly at ease. He laughed as people rolled around on the floor with Max and lip-synced to music videos. He couldn't drink thanks to the drugs he was still taking, but his appetite came back, and he munched on snacks amid chess battles against Suze, then Devi, and they all made crude commentary over the poker tournament that Herc and Indra became embroiled in.

Saying goodbyes at the end of the day wasn't as bad as he feared, because even though he was still laid up, it no longer felt like the world would pass on by before he got the chance to come back.

* * *

_September 7, 2022..._

To both of their frustration, however, Chuck hadn't even been cleared to _start_ physical therapy by the next alert. His internal injuries and concussion were slow to heal, making him sluggish and sore. His adrenaline levels felt low even watching the other Jaegers deploy against Tentalus.

The initial plan was to send out the Dream Team of Vulcan Specter, Crimson Typhoon, and Coyote Tango, but Coyote's engineers discovered a fault in her hydraulics that was impeding her ability to walk. So at the last minute, Katana Eagle joined Vulcan and Crimson to intercept Tentalus, Category IV, in the South China Sea.

The kaiju was the octopus from hell - shaped like some of the other eight-legged freaks who'd come before, but his tentacles were three times as long as any of the previous ones. He wrapped three of them around Vulcan while still grappling with Typhoon, and only the Hassans unleashing their lava stopped him from getting a grip on the con-pod. They limped away, but took all three tentacles with them, and Katana and Typhoon finished the bastard off three hours later.

Only Katana Eagle came out (relatively) unscathed. Typhoon had a huge section of his shoulder armor torn off and his left arm nearly severed, leaving Jin Wei with a broken collarbone.

Chuck and Herc stood near the tarmac in Brisbane when the jumphawks brought the battered Vulcan to the Assembly Building. The damage wasn't as visibly dramatic as what Striker had sustained: the conn-pod was intact, as were all four limbs. But the trained eyes of Rangers could see the hull ruptures and the telltale burns where generators had blown. "He's out of commission until at least the end of the year," Herc murmured grimly.

So was Devi Hassan. She had fractures in her ribs and pelvis, and severe burns from the worst of the pressure damage to Vulcan's right side. Bundy One arrived not long after the jumphawks landed, and Indra and a couple of Vulcan's other support crew carefully escorted the sisters off the chopper. Devi was on her feet, but only just, between her injuries and the meds she was undoubtedly on, and Suze wasn't much steadier than her sister. Both were just coherent enough for murmured greetings to the Hansens before they fell asleep in the infirmary.

Indra sat at their bedside, looking very tiredly at his phone. "I need to go pick up my aunt and uncle. They want to visit, look the girls over."

Chuck raised his eyebrows at his father, and Herc patted Indra's shoulder. "Why don't you stay with the girls? I'll fetch their parents; they know us. I can ease their minds a bit."

There was no missing the relief on Indra's face. "Yeah, they trust you. Thanks, mate. I don't think I'm good to drive at this point."

Chuck was still not terribly comfortable moving around much thanks to his own injuries, so with a brief exchanged look, Herc nodded, and Chuck settled in a seat next to Indra. The medics didn't seem terribly worried, and delayed explanations until Herc returned with Devi and Suze's parents.

"They're both going to be fine. Devi will be on bed rest for several weeks until her fractures are healed, but neither of them will need skin grafts for their burns."

"So they will deploy again?"

There was an edge in Mr. Hassan's voice that Chuck had never heard before. He looked up, startled, and saw that Devi and Suze's mother was giving her husband a warning look, while Indra and Herc just seemed dismayed. Up until now, both Hassans' parents had seemed supportive and proud of their daughters' position as Rangers, even amid the danger and public opposition.

All three dads (Indra's, Devi and Suze's, and Chuck's) wandered out of the infirmary a little while later, and Mrs. Hassan sat down next to Chuck. After studying Devi, who was still out cold, she looked Chuck up and down. "And how is your recovery going?"

"All right," Chuck said, and gave her a wry smile. "Not as fast as I'd like."

She chuckled. "Of course. We have peace for now, but after the girls have had a few weeks, they'll be driving everyone mad. No doubt you're already badgering your father." He feigned innocence, and she laughed out loud.

Chuck had liked Devi and Suze's mum from the beginning, but now her laugh gave him a pang of some combination of happiness and pain that he couldn't understand. Somehow, when she told him that it would be okay, he found it easy to believe her.

Within a year, he wouldn't be so sure if he believed in anything anymore.

_**To Be Continued.** _ **_.._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Coming Soon:_ ** _All four Australian Rangers are out of commission. All they can do is watch when the next engagement ends in a heartbreak that leads Team Vulcan down a path they swore they'd never take in_ **_Chapter Forty-Two: Hector's Chariot._ **
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Kyrra Taior: Chief Engineer for Lucky Seven, then Striker Eureka. Aboriginal Australian, Herc's age. Youngest and sole surviving daughter of Marian Taior, an elderly aboriginal woman who occasionally looked after Chuck when he was younger. Susanti Hassan's long-term girlfriend.
> 
> Greg Oliver: Herc's comrade and fellow chopper pilot from before K-Day. Like Herc, he joined the Jaeger Program in the wake of Scissure and became a support chopper pilot for Lucky Seven, then Striker Eureka. His son, Danny, is now pilot of Tacit Ronin.
> 
> Marshal Blake Ketteridge: Commanding Officer of Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force.
> 
> Fei-Yen Wang/Huan Che: Pilots of Shaolin Rogue, China's Mark-3. Fei-Yen is one of China's first generation of female fighter pilots, and Huan was formerly one of her plane crew. They were in a long-term, clandestine-by-orders relationship, because the Chinese Commanding Officers wanted the beautiful Fei-Yen to continue serving as the untouchable poster girl for propaganda, or at least by the side of a handsomer man than Huan.
> 
> Dr. Lea Franklin - age 22, lived in San Jose, California. Sole survivor of K-Day out of her family because she was traveling abroad with a school group. Extremely gifted, but has intense social anxiety due to PTSD. Attended the Jaeger Academy with the Beckets and Tendo Choi in 2016 and became a J-Tech Engineer.
> 
> Dr. Priya Katwal: J-Tech senior Engineer, formerly NASA, now designs conn-pod support systems, Indian, late 50s.
> 
> Daniel (Danny) Oliver/Evelyn (Evie) Nakano: Pilots of Tacit Ronin. Danny, Australian-Polynesian, was Chuck's classmate in school and they frequently clashed prior to entering Jaeger Academy. Evie is Japanese-British. The three found common ground through sexual experimentation and now jokingly call themselves frenemies with benefits.
> 
> Devi/Susanti Hassan: Rangers of Vulcan Specter, Australia's Mark-3 Jaeger. Sisters, ages 31 and 29, first-generation daughters of Indonesian immigrants to Australia who graduated Jaeger Academy's Class 2016-B along with the Beckets, Kennedy LaRue, and Stephanie Lanphier.
> 
> Indra Hassan: Devi and Susanti's cousin, Vulcan Specter's support chief, age 40, graduated Class 2016-B with them but failed at drift compatibility.
> 
> Erin Riley: One of Vulcan Specter's command chopper pilots, age 28, African-American from Chicago, Illinois, married to an Australian engineer, Calum Riley.
> 
> Calum Riley: J-Tech engineer with Team Striker Eureka, Erin's husband, Irish-Australian.
> 
> Dr. Ramya Dahari: Head of Striker Eureka's team of Psych Analysts, recruited specially by Caitlin Lightcap and Stacker Pentecost (though Herc and Chuck don't know that.) Late-30s, Malaysian.


	42. Hector's Chariot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All four Australian Rangers are out of commission. All they can do is watch when the next engagement ends in a heartbreak that leads Team Vulcan down a path they swore they'd never take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _  
> **Author's Notes:**  
>  _  
>  _Many thanks to everyone for the reviews and feedback, and special thanks to Raine Wynd for her beta-reading services!_

**Chapter Forty-Two: Hector's Chariot**

_PPDC Assembly Facility, Brisbane, Australia…  
November 6, 2022…_

The next kaiju went straight to the northeast. Marshal Ketteridge spent hours arguing with the Northern Hemisphere commanders over whether he should relinquish Tacit Ronin, given that Australia now had exactly two functioning Jaegers and neither one was actually Australian. Japan wanted Ronin back yesterday, and the Americans wanted to put Mammoth Apostle into play.

" _The Russians are rolling out all three of theirs, but Japan's only willing to float Coyote Tango until we're sure this bogey doesn't double back_ ," Tendo said from Sydney's LOCCENT.

Herc, Chuck, and the Hassans sat in the Brisbane war room to watch the engagement. "Category IV, codename Millipincer," announced Kyrra. She squinted at the spectrum projection and muttered, "Yes, that does look like at least ten legs. God help us."

"Of course, we get a ten-legged freak when nearly all the primary teams are broken up," said Devi. "Who's the new A-team?"

"Cherno Alpha, Nova Hyperion, and Butterfly Sword," said Chuck. He sighed. "Even Shaolin Rogue's not back on the roster since Taurax."

Indra gave him a wry smile. "There's going to be a _lot_ of frustrated Rangers sitting this one out. Looks like they've put Coyote Tango in a trio with Eden Assassin and Cascade Victor."

Of course, Millipincer just kept on chugging to the north, into horrifically violent winter seas where it was hard for submarines to cover, let alone for sonar and spectrometer buoys to stay in place. The bad weather made evacuation in the Aleutian Islands that much harder.

_"_ _Chrome Brutus, Romeo Blue, and Hydra Corinthian are deploying to Anchorage. Cherno Alpha's trio is taking the Siberian wall. Coyote Tango's team is deploying to Adak Island in the Aleutians."_

After another twenty-four hours, there had been no new sightings, leaving Rangers and K-Watch alike to fear Millipincer had given them the slip. " _Sir, Admiral Yamamoto and Colonel Okita are demanding that we deploy Tacit Ronin. K-Watch is thinking the target may have switched direction,"_ said Tendo, leaving the comm live from Sydney. Knowing Tendo, Herc suspected that open channel had been no accident.

_"Fine, fine. Will Hawaii do?"_  
  
Chuck shot Herc a baffled look. Herc agreed with him; Ketteridge wasn't usually indecisive. They mutually shrugged it off and returned their attention to the Jaeger blips, including the one now departing Sydney to meet Yankee Star and Silver Lion in Hawaii.

Devi's fidgeting caught Chuck's attention; generally Suze was the restless one. Devi saw him looking and smiled. He sat down next to her, and she put an arm around his shoulders. "Being grounded never gets any easier."

"Yeah, the shrinks gave us a warning lecture after Taurax." He pretended to count on his fingers. "That's two engagements we've sat out now. Maybe we can make it through three, but on the fourth one, I'm stealing a gun and going in with or without Striker."

Suze leaned around Devi and grinned. "I could absolutely see you and your old man doing that. Chasing after a kaiju on foot with handguns."

"As if _you_ wouldn't!" Chuck retorted.

"No, I'd steal a grenade launcher." Yeah, Suze Hassan didn't have much room to call anybody else a loose cannon, and she knew it.

* * *

Finally, after another day of waiting, nibbling at food, and sleeping badly, the new alert came in: "We have a bogey off St. Lawrence Island. Fucker slipped right between the Aleutians, and nobody saw him!" Kyrra exclaimed.

"Ah, fuck, and there's severe weather on both sides of the island," Herc said, tracing possible routes for the jumphawks across the map with his finger. "Cherno's trio can't go east; it's bloody impossible."

Even before he could make his prediction, Chuck had guessed the response, and the announcement came over the comm. _"Coyote, Eden, and Cascade, deploy immediately and intercept at will,"_ announced Marshal Pentecost from Anchorage. " _Romeo, Chrome, and Hydra, launching for St. Lawrence Island at best possible speed._ "

" _Cherno Alpha, Nova Hyperion, and Butterfly Sword are maintaining their position on the Siberian Wall,_ " said Colonel Rabinov from the Vladivostok Shatterdome.

" _Vladivostok, we are too far south!_ " said Sasha Kaidanovsky. Evidently the Russians were already in their conn-pod. " _We can proceed along the wall to the northeast on our own power even without lift support."_

" _Cherno, your team may proceed northeast to Provideniya when lift support is available, but you are not to spend hours in the drift until you have the order to deploy!"_

"Great, with those storms over the Kamchatka Peninsula, they'll never get there," muttered Indra. "Not without a twelve-hour neural handshake just to get into position. Rabinov's got a point."

_"Nome, Alaska, has full evacuation in progress, but the weather is a serious problem. There are already vehicles getting stranded on the exit roads, and the temperature is dangerously low,_ " reported someone from Kaiju Civil Defense in the U.S.

St. Lawrence Island wasn't a bad spot if the Jaegers could make the intercept before the kaiju got bored and wandered off. There were only two settlements, both on the north side of the island. Millipincer seemed to be blundering aimlessly around the south side, wrecking the wildlife habitats (and making Devi and Suze wince) but not posing any real danger to the human population.

The hours started inching by again, and all anyone in Australia could do was watch as the poor locals in Savoonga and Gambell scrambled to find something resembling shelter, and the kaiju skittered around, shredding weather stations and marinas and sniffing for a bigger target. He really did resemble some sort of mutant millipede, with ten spindly, clawed legs under a long, skinny body and a head that was mostly jaws.

Savoonga and Gambell were small, flat villages on the north peninsulas of the island. Millipincer could completely flatten either one within a few hours if a Jaeger didn't arrive in time to distract him.

_"This is Coyote Tango, we're passing over the island to land south of Savoonga. All civilians need to get underground; Eden Assassin is firing her microwave at will once we land!"_

_"Copy that, Coyote. Civilians are moving into tsunami/earthquake bunkers in the foothills."_

"Those things may be quake-proof, but are they microwave-proof?" Chuck breathed, examining the squat buildings above the towns that the evacuees were streaming into. They looked to be at least partly concrete, but if their roofs and walls weren't thick enough, Eden's principal weapon might just cook everyone inside!

To his relief, Vic and Gunnar had that on their minds. " _Eden, we want your back to the villages whenever you deploy the microwave. Don't risk friendly fire!"_

_"Copy, Coyote Tango. Give us the apex of the triangle; that will also keep you and Cascade out of our range."_

_"Done. Copy that, Cascade?"_

_"We hear you. Coming in on your three, Eden - whoa!"_ The jumphawks carrying Cascade had to lurch sharply to the east - Millipincer had spotted him, and lunged over the rocky hills. " _We're low enough - lift crew, drop! Drop us now!"_

Cascade's lithe silver frame raised a cloud of dust as he thudded to the ground, and Chuck's teeth hurt just imagining how hard that landing must have been. Still, the Girards shook themselves off and straightened, bringing their weapons to bear to meet the charging kaiju. Cascade Victor was armed with electrified charges that delivered searing, continuous blasts hotter than the surface of the sun. Technically, they were called Tesla Blasters, but they'd been nicknamed Greased Lightning.

While the jumphawks were still maneuvering the larger, heavier Coyote Tango and Eden Assassin into position, Millipincer evidently thought he could get the jump on the one Jaeger on the ground. Instead, he was in for a shock – pun absolutely intended. A sizzling bolt of electricity blasted out of Cascade's right hand and caught the skinny kaiju right in the face, making his whole body convulse and smoke as he rolled away, screeching and writhing.

"YEAH!" Chuck couldn't help yelling (luckily in chorus with many of his fellow watchers).

" _Keep him going down that slope!"_ Hedy Keres of Eden Assassin shouted as they released from their jumphawks. " _We'll have the hills between us and the towns!_ "

" _They never taste any good after you reheat 'em,_ " quipped Vic. Coyote dropped down from her lift chopper lines, looking strangely light on her feet for such a tall, heavy Jaeger. _"We're moving to cut him off to the west - Cascade, keep your distance to the east."_ They paused and looked back up, taking their bearings and the position of the town. " _We've got good cover, Eden - fire at will!"_

Millipincer finally halted his roll down the hill and took in the three Jaegers with glowing yellow eyes. The calculation in his mind was almost visible, and he skittered sideways away from Cascade, looking from Coyote to Eden in rapid succession, back and forth with three of his front limbs raised for combat. _"Charging microwave -_ _ **FUCK!**_ _"_ With a stream of Estonian profanity, Eden had to abort her attack and dive for cover as the kaiju unveiled a trick of his own - rather like a tarantula, the spikes on Millipincer's legs came free as projectiles. They flew further than any earthly arachnid's hairs could go, and embedded themselves deep in the earth - luckily, none had met their mark.

" _Fucking hell - okay, new plan, aim for the legs!_ " Coyote didn't wait, but was already aiming her energy caster and sent off three bolts at the limbs beneath Millipincer's midsection that he was standing on.

Chuck was breathing hard as the kaiju recoiled and roared, now missing at least two limbs... but from the spraying Kaiju Blue, what was unmistakably two new legs generated. "Oh, Christ, shit. I've never seen a kaiju do that before," Herc breathed.

"Have we ever seen one with projectiles?" someone asked.

"A few have spit Blue and thrown things, but not like this. Damn, not good." Indra togged up a hologram of the ocean and tapped the red blips of Romeo Blue, Hydra Corinthian, and Chrome Brutus. "C'mon, guys, faster! We're gonna need back-up."

"Their ETA is three hours. They're making good time," said Kyrra.

" _Coyote, give him a barrage and keep him distracted!_ " Eden's Peter Lepp ordered. _"Charging microwave!_ "

Both Coyote and Cascade unleashed their own projectiles: mortars from Coyote and smaller incendiary bombs from Cascade. It did the trick; Millipincer didn't know which way to turn, and started shooting off his spikes almost at random. If only he didn't seem to have unlimited ammunition. Coyote found out how the things functioned the hard way when one buried itself almost directly into his knee joint.

" _Goddammit, shit, FUCK, motherfucking - "_ Coyote staggered back, clawing at the stinger, as everyone in the Brisbane war room jumped and swore in chorus - Chuck included.

But Coyote and Cascade had bought Eden the time she needed, and Pete shouted triumphantly, _"Brace for impact! Firing microwave in three - two - one!"_

Like Hydra Corinthian's pressure wave, Eden Assassin's microwave was almost invisible to the naked eye, except for the smoke and dust that parted around it and showed its passage. However, also like Hydra's pressure wave, the microwave's effect on the target was unmistakable. Millipincer took the pulse directly in the side and went rolling further downhill, roaring and writhing, some of the plates of his armor unmistakably melting and warping from the heat.

Eden could only maintain it for the count of five seconds, but they were wonderful and long and destructive, and Cascade Victor wasted no time, leaping down towards the quarry to give him another punishing bolt of lightning straight into his wounds. " _Try regenerating from this!"_

Except that he almost did. Not only could he apparently grow new limbs in a fraction of a second, the bloody monster shed his skin - or armor - in an explosion of sharp-edged fragments in all directions. None of the Jaegers managed to dodge them all. " _Fucking Christ, we're hit - LOCCENT, we need back-up!"_ Gunnar bellowed, and everyone could hear Vic's shouts of pain over the comm. Coyote had half-turned, but taken half a dozen of the things in his right side. It didn't look like any of them had struck a vital system, but they'd penetrated the iron armor as if it were nothing more than human skin.

Eden had one in her neck, another in her face, and a third in her shoulder shield. She'd managed to shield her turbine and the microwave generator, but two of the stingers were up in her vital systems. Over the sound of Pete's cries of pain, Hedy yelled, " _Conn-pod hull compromised!_ "

_"Fall back! Coyote and Eden, fall back to defensive positions!"_ Marshal Pentecost shouted from Anchorage. " _Backup's on its way!"_

There was no time to fall back; the kaiju was advancing. Coyote had the least maneuverability thanks to the hits she'd taken in her knee and torso, and Millipincer honed straight in on her. The kaiju bastard had his own problems with movement, but he and Coyote Tango were both sliding downhill towards each other.

" _Shit, shit - LOCCENT - "_ Gunnar did not sound good. " _No hydraulic pressure to right leg - energy caster down... we can't... mayday!"_

" _Hang on!"_ Cascade and Eden dove after them, even with one of those spikes sticking right out of Eden's face. Pete Lepp screamed as another barrage of the kaiju's stingers tore into Eden's left side, but the microwave sizzled to life again. " _Charging microwave - Cascade, get back!_ "

Millipincer realized he was running out of room to maneuver and twisted, trying to duck between rocky outcroppings, but Eden's second blast seared across his upper torso and sent him screeching and twisting onto his back. Cascade followed it with another barrage of electricity, but the stinking thing was still moving! Worse, it was still moving towards Coyote, who was barely moving at all.

Someone on the comm line was gasping, then cried out as Millipincer plowed into Coyote's side and dragged her to the ground.

No one yelled in the Brisbane war room around Chuck. All he heard were gasping intakes of breath around him, but over the comm, people were screaming. Nathan and Juliette were swearing up a storm in French, rearing over the kaiju and ripping into him with their lightning at point-blank range. Pete still sounded more like he was in pain than in range, but Hedy was roaring like a lunatic, cursing and snarling and simply pummeling Millipincer with her good arm.

Vic and Gunnar had gone silent.

" _Eden, Cascade, Coyote's reactor is heating up! She's got no coolant and no hydraulics!"_

" _Get him off her! Get him off!_ " Pete might be hurt, but he was still well enough to plan, and held Eden's tattered, punctured left arm in front of her face and torso to shield them from more stingers. But they'd finally overwhelmed the kaiju, and only a few feeble shots followed, all of them missing their marks as Cascade and Eden went side-by-side against the long, disgusting body and heaved him off Coyote. " _Coyote, crawl east! Come on! Vic, Gunnar, respond!"_

Coyote didn't move. Vic and Gunnar didn't answer.

" _LOCCENT, do you have any readings from the pilots?"_ Juliette demanded.

" _We've lost all readings on the conn-pod, Cascade._ "

Next to Chuck, someone's breath caught in a stifled sob.

Eden Assassin staggered to her feet and limped towards Coyote's prone form, trying to turn her over and get to the conn-pod. " _We'll detach them_ ," Hedy croaked.

" _Eden, hold it, the kaiju's still alive!"_

Another spatter of spikes and kaiju blue punctuated that warning. Eden turned around, her pilots snarling. " _Cascade, pull back! Charging microwave!_ _Bastard, filthy bastard..._ " This time, Millipincer couldn't wriggle out of the way, and Pete and Hedy let him have it straight in the face, growling revenge and moving closer with each second that passed until Eden's power went out.

Cascade scrambled around her and went after Coyote. " _LOCCENT, what are the radiation readings?"_

There was a long pause. " _Cascade... we've got external readings, and the last signal from the conn-pod indicated massive hull breaches. Temperatures indicate interior hull melting. Radiation unsurvivable._ "

Cascade just stood there. It was visible now on the cameras from the spotters that were hastily backing off: the red glow of Coyote Tango's nuclear core had spread, like the blood from a mortal wound. Her torso was collapsing in on itself, and Millipincer's stingers had punctured her conn-pod in multiple places. She was shattered, unmoving.

When flames burst from her upper body, Hedy Keres screamed, or rather, roared. Eden lurched back at Millipincer, unsheathed her blades in her good arm, and began hacking the kaiju to pieces. There was a man's voice audible on her comm line too: Pete Lepp was sobbing. Cascade joined them without a sound, scorching his lightning into Millipincer's neck until they finally severed his head and finally, _finally,_ LOCCENT announced, " _No signature._ _Kaiju declared destroyed, 1136 hours._ "

Smoke billowed from Coyote Tango's structure, and her brother and sister Jaeger stood between her and the carcass of the kaiju that had destroyed her. " _Rangers..._ " It was Marshal Pentecost. His voice actually broke for a split-second. " _There's nothing more you can do. I want you both to move to the other side of those hills, away from the radiation. She's in meltdown. Vic and Gunnar are gone."_

For a few moments, neither Jaeger moved. Chuck thought one or both of them were going to defy Pentecost and go after the Tunaris' bodies. Then someone else's voice came over the line, speaking Estonian. It wasn't until Chuck noticed that the signal was from Cherno Alpha that he realized it was Sasha Kaidanovsky. Hedy answered her, sounding utterly broken, but Aleksis joined in, speaking Russian. At the urging of Cherno's pilots, in voices gentler than Chuck had ever heard, Pete and Hedy relented and turned away.

_They graduated with Vic and Gunnar,_ Chuck recalled, his chest so tight he could hardly breathe. _Team Eden Assassin, Team Coyote Tango, and Team Tidal Dragon._ Tidal Dragon had gone down in 2018, and both of her pilots had died of radiation exposure. Now Vic and Gunnar Tunari. Pete and Hedy were the last surviving team of Class 2016-A.

Ninety minutes later, Romeo Blue touched down along with Chrome Brutus and Hydra Corinthian. Much argument followed, some of it off the comm, but in the end, Romeo and Chrome deployed with their reinforced radiation shielding, and carried Coyote's wreckage down into the Bering Sea to halt the meltdown of her reactor.

When Chrome emerged from the ocean with something in his hands, Chuck looked away from the screen. Only then did he realize that he was clutching his dad's arm. Devi and Suze weren't looking anymore either, just huddled together in their seats, practically entwined. Indra wasn't making a sound, but he was bent forward in his seat. Kyrra rubbed his back.

Chuck's dad looked down at the conference table rather than at the screen and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Chuck didn't want to look at the screen either, but in a way, looking at his dad at this moment was almost as bad. His father's age and how long he'd been fighting kaiju were things Chuck had always known but hadn't quite thought about the way he was now. For the first time that Chuck could recall, Herc looked old.

That awareness came down on Chuck as hard as the awareness of Vic and Gunnar's fates. If pilots as strong and intelligent as Vic and Gunnar Tunari could die the way they just had on some barren Aleutian island, what did that mean for all the rest? If pilots as _young_ as Vic and Gunnar could die this way, what did that mean for the oldest?

It made his stomach churn and made him want to run from the room, but he couldn't leave his co-pilot. So Chuck sat there, death and grief and a swirl of other emotions he couldn't name churning in his gut and no way to say any of it without breaking the silence that had fallen.

* * *

_Nittany Valley Preperatory Academy…  
State College, Pennsylvania…_

Half a continent away from where Coyote Tango and her pilots had perished, Mako Mori didn't turn away from the television screen. Nearly all of her friends stopped looking when they realized that Chrome Brutus was carrying two bodies back to shore from the wreckage of their Jaeger.

She kept watching, and wept the hardest that she had since she was eleven years old.

* * *

_November 16, 2022..._  
_St. Lawrence Island..._

It was the first time in history that Jaegers engaged in operations separate and apart from their job description of "killing kaiju." Romeo Blue and Chrome Brutus stayed on St. Lawrence Island, ensuring that Coyote Tango's wreckage was thoroughly drowned and the meltdown ended, then took advantage of their radiation shielding again to bury the radioactive fragments that remained in the debris on the island. They carried Vic and Gunnar Tunari's bodies to one of the lift choppers, and after the end of the meltdown, carried Coyote Tango to a waiting aircraft carrier that would take her to Oblivion Bay.

The scant thousand people who lived on St. Lawrence Island now had to contend with a nuclear no-go zone until the irradiated earth and debris could be completely moved or buried. It wasn't nearly as bad as the contamination from Talon Tasmania's meltdown in Guayaquil, Ecuador or Matador Fury's disaster in Acapulco. The exclusion zone was only a five-mile radius, and the experts agreed that it would be clear within a couple of years.

The people of St. Lawrence Island were mostly Siberian Yupiks who made their living fishing and hunting and herding reindeer. Once the alert ended, they came out of their shelters and gathered at the barricades, taking in the sight of Eden Assassin and Cascade Victor's battered forms. All were aware that a third Jaeger lay broken along with her pilots on the other side of the island.

Pete Lepp and Hedy Keres were evacuated back to Vladivostok, and Nathan and Juliette Girard to Anchorage, but the locals brought gifts to the Gages, Ilisapie, and Zeke for them. "We will never forget what they did here, and what it cost them."

When the flock of reporters who descended on the island brought the inevitable muckrakers who sniffed that the Jaegers did more harm than good, the villagers nearly turned into a mob. They refused to let the pundits go anywhere in the towns, and bodily shoved the ones who didn't take the hint back onto their choppers and planes. Whatever the political agendas in play, the people whose lives and livelihoods had been saved by Coyote Tango at the cost of the Tunaris' lives were not going to tolerate any disrespect.

* * *

_November 18, 2022...  
Sydney Shatterdome..._

On the day of the worldwide memorial for Vic and Gunnar, Chuck feared for the first time in his adult life that he might break down in public. He'd had to wear a black armband and stand ceremony outside the Shatterdome four times since he started at the Academy, and each one hurt more than the last. Hearing the guns fire and the pipes play for Vic and Gunnar hurt like nothing had hurt in years. Chuck gnawed on the inside of his cheek as he stood at attention and tried to make his mind fly out of his body. Anything to be anywhere other than here looking at the Australian flag at half-mast and the people holding American flags and black ribbons at the Shatterdome fence.

The ghost drift was powerful with his and Herc's shared emotions, to the point that Chuck could practically see what Herc was trying so hard not to think about: Vic and Gunnar dancing, Vic and Gunnar laughing in between training sessions. That party in Romeo Blue's bay years ago, the first time Herc had seen Devi and Suze. They'd been dancing with Vic and Gunnar and the Gage twins and the rest of their class.

They'd always been so…alive, so full of energy. It didn't make any bloody sense. Chuck's throat tightened and his chest felt compressed when he tried to understand it, until there was a _pull_ in the ghost drift. He blinked back to the present and saw Herc eyeing him. Was his old man annoyed that he wasn't sucking it up better? Or… _something_ in the drift said otherwise, that Herc understood. At least Chuck thought that was what he was getting. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Herc could remember Vic and Gunnar without wanting to roar at the sky that it wasn't fucking fair that they weren't coming home.

_Don't be stupid, kid._ Chuck nearly jumped. It wasn't exactly comforting, at this moment, hearing his old man scold him in the drift, but…well, at least Herc wasn't ticked at him for feeling completely gutted.

Devi and Suze were taking it even harder. Vic and Gunnar had been their mentors almost from the beginning at the Academy. Chuck could see Suze trembling as they all saluted for the dress uniformed US Marines who processed across Sydney Shatterdome's tarmac. It was the same at every Shatterdome, so the entire world could pay homage to the fallen Rangers and the country who had lost them.

After the memorial, the grounded personnel went back to Brisbane and sat listlessly in the mess hall. Tendo and most of the American transplants came to join them. Devi and Suze kept slipping out to make and answer phone calls. Apparently, Vic and Gunnar's deaths had spurred them into action on something they'd kept putting off with their family. Indra knew whatever it was, but he seemed too drained to stir himself.

Indra and Tendo were sitting together watching the news coverage, just close enough for Chuck to eavesdrop. "After Knifehead, I was glad Antwan didn't live to see it," Tendo said.

"Yeah. Now I'm glad Yancy didn't live to see this." Indra wiped his face with a napkin. "I think this has cracked my girls a bit. They'd sworn they were going to respect Raleigh's decision, but now... they want to find him. They've got a private investigator."

Tendo stiffened and stared at Indra. "Seriously? Have they got any leads?"

"Dunno. They might, with all those calls back and forth. Marshal Pentecost keeps trying to talk them out of it. He says Raleigh has a right to privacy, and...well, he's right. Sometimes Devi gets the feeling Pentecost knows where Rals is, but he hasn't said. On the other hand... _shit..._ they're pilots too. No matter how bad it gets, as long as they can fight, they will, and we know how it can end. They can't stand the thought that they might go down and never see him again. There's stuff they want to tell him."

A few days after the memorial, Devi and Suze suddenly got leave from Marshal Ketteridge to go somewhere. They never told anyone where.

* * *

_November 20, 2022...  
Manzanillo, Mexico..._

Raleigh picked up double shifts the closer each alert got and the more nervous the pool of workers became. With the wall going up across the mouth of Manzanillo Bay, there was actually a shortage of construction workers. If he could have, he would have worked during every kaiju engagement as one more way of avoiding the televisions and chatter of the other workers.

Too bad work always shut down once movement in the Breach was announced. As it was, there was no missing the news when Coyote Tango went down. Voices lowered and the men murmured prayers, grasping crosses around their necks and rosaries from their pockets. After that, Raleigh started taking all three shifts every day until the supervisors caught on and made him stop. "If you're looking to suicide, find another way," said Paul Terrence, one of the shift supers who'd first hired Raleigh. "I'm nobody's daddy around here, but I'm not giving anyone a coward's way out."

_Ouch._ That stung, so Raleigh backed down and took the loosely-mandated rest shift after each double he worked. Even so, he spent most of his off time eating and exercising like crazy just to wear himself out enough to sleep.

On the shore near the workers' barracks stood protestors who'd deemed the Wall an act of their government's cowardice, and the abandonment of the Jaeger Program an act of betrayal. Most of the foremen didn't care unless the activists interfered with the work. Some of the shift supervisors like Paul would pull strings to let the laborers ride the vehicles and boats carrying materials out of the frame and avoid the picket lines. Raleigh always took him up on it; he hated when someone recognized him.

Paul and most of the crews knew who Raleigh was, and Raleigh trusted those workers who kept their mouths shut about it.

So when Paul came to find him in the barracks at the end of his rest shift and quietly addressed him as, "Ranger," Raleigh actually recoiled. He just stared, and Paul looked apologetic. "You've got a couple visitors. I've tried to talk them into leaving, but they won't. If they make a scene, word'll get out."

Raleigh was completely paralyzed. Running outright from anything wasn't in his nature, but a part of him wanted to run away. Yet…he also wanted to know who it was. It had to be Rangers. Anyone else would have been chased off, but whoever they were, they were influential enough that Paul Terrence was worried about causing a scene. It was making the past rise up behind Raleigh like a tsunami, all the memories he wanted so badly to smother. This dead, gray world of dust and smoke and welders' sparks gave him something like numbness, but now the curtain was ripping away, and he couldn't help but _remember..._

They must have gotten tired of waiting. He had no idea how long he stood there, but from the dust clouds at the entrance of the barracks tents came two slight figures, side-by-side, unconsciously in sync with each other. Their hair was hidden under the hoods of their jackets. They weren't in PPDC gear. Only anyone who looked close at their faces would recognize Devi and Susanti Hassan.

_Dev and Suze..._ Raleigh still couldn't move. He just stood there like an idiot and stared at them.

The few other workers in the barracks were staring too, so Paul stepped forward and cautiously beckoned Raleigh and the Hassans to follow him. Feeling powerless to refuse, Raleigh obeyed, and Paul led them to his trailer. "It's more private," he told them, and let himself out so they could have it to themselves. Raleigh's mind was whirling too fast to think of thanking him.

Devi and Suze looked at a loss for words too. Finally, Suze made the first move and stepped cautiously toward him. "Rals?"

He flinched. He couldn't help it; he didn't mean to. It was just that hearing that old nickname hurt even worse than being called Ranger. The part of his mind and his heart that he'd worked so hard to put behind a wall of its own had exploded back to the forefront and he couldn't... _couldn't..._

"I'm sorry, love," Devi closed the distance between them in a few strides and cupped his cheeks like he was a kid. "I'm sorry, we know, we've got no right to just barge in on you like this. We just needed to see if you were okay!"

Raleigh's throat was so tight that he couldn't talk, and he was afraid that if he tried to say anything, he'd come apart at the seams. So he squeezed her arm in response and let her hug him, and Suze when she came up to put her arms around them both.

Devi and Susanti Hassan were both smaller than Raleigh. They were all maternal and cautious, as if afraid he'd break, nothing at all like people had used to hug him. Being hugged by either one of them shouldn't have been so overwhelming. Yet somehow, it felt as if he was in Yancy's arms again. Half of Raleigh wanted to sink into their arms and never let go, because he felt closer to his brother at this moment than he in nearly three years. The other half of him wanted to jerk away and run, because it would hurt so much when they finally let go that he might as well just get it over with.

"I'm so sorry, kiddo. We didn't mean to make it worse," Suze repeated, as if she were drifting with him.

_Really, you didn't. It would've happened anyway. Every engagement, it happens, especially when someone doesn't...come back._ It had felt the same when Andrés and Daniel were killed, now with Vic and Gunnar...he remembered them and remembered Yancy and couldn't decide whether to be glad Yancy wasn't here to have to mourn for them or not. Maybe it would be different if the Rangers who'd died since Knifehead hadn't been friends...Raleigh doubted that. Every one would crack him open again. So it wasn't Devi and Susanti's fault for wanting to see him, even though their being here was making the chasm inside him feel that much bigger.

That wasn't right. He had to get it together enough to say something. He didn't dare look at either of them, but he managed to get enough breath to whisper, "You didn't make it worse. It's okay."

_I missed you too. I'm sorry, so sorry I'm not stronger so I could've stayed. At least I should've said goodbye, it's just... Yancy... Yancy... it was my fault all my fault and you lost him too and I'm sorry..._

Devi took a shuddering breath and stepped back, hastily wiping her face. "You heard about Vic and Gunnar?"

Raleigh couldn't help the way he flinched again, but he nodded. Even though he couldn't manage to look either of them in the eyes, he heard Suze stifle a sob. Maybe Raleigh wasn't the only one hanging on by his fingernails, trying with all his might not to just collapse and never get up again.

Devi was ever the mentor, and she plowed on in a rough voice. "That was why... we're grounded from a bad hit in September, but we'll go back into service in the spring. We just needed to tell you: we've never stopped thinking of you, Raleigh. Never. We never will, and it's the same for Steffie and Kennedy, and Tendo, and everyone else from our class. Nobody blames you, and if you ever want to come back... or if you just need help, you can call us. Find any of us. We'll always be here for you."

_Why?_ He didn't understand that. He knew better than to think that Devi or Suze Hassan would ever lash out of him; neither sister had a mean bone in her body. They would always be kind to him for Yancy's sake... _Yancy..._ but it was another thing to suggest Raleigh Becket would ever be anything but a burden to the remaining Rangers and crews.

Here they were, hugging him despite how filthy he was. It didn't make sense. It was almost as if they'd been driven here by more than the desire to honor Yancy, Vic, and Gunnar's memories. Since they'd appeared, along with the flood of pain and loneliness and longing that had surged up to drown him, it was as if a light had been shone on his brain, making the dark patches left by drifting alone that much sharper and clearer. Parts of his mind still didn't work. In the past two years and ten months, he had started to think that maybe the brain damage was healing. So much for that theory.

"I'm sorry. I can't... can't go back." _I miss you. I'm sorry, I just… can't._

"You wouldn't have to drift again," Devi said, but he shook his head.

"'s not just that. I can't be in it all again." _Seeing you like this is bad enough._ He didn't say that part, but she understood what he meant. _I can't be surrounded by it again, Jaegers, Rangers, crews, everything we used to have and everything we lost. I can't, it'll drown me._

Suze put an arm around her sister's shoulder and mustered a smile at Raleigh. "Yeah, we understand that. We do. We don't blame you, we just wanted to make sure you knew you could, if you ever did decide you wanted to, or if you ever need help."

They were being so kind to him. They didn't have to be, and they had every reason in the world to forget him, but they hadn't. _Yancy meant so much to them._ He forced himself to look them in the eyes and murmured, "Thank you. For everything." _Thanks for remembering him. Thanks for going on, honoring him the way I can't._

"This isn't goodbye," Devi told him, almost as if they were drifting and she'd heard what he was thinking. "That's not why we came - well, just to make sure you'd know, just in case. We'll always be here for you."

An airhorn outside made both Hassans jump. "Shift change," Raleigh murmured. If he wanted this one, he'd have to be at the foreman's platform in twenty minutes.

They looked at each other, then at him, and turned to the door. Outside, Paul Terrence watched them weave through the crowds to the work site gates. Raleigh went with them that far, and if Paul was surprised that he stopped at the gates, he didn't show it. "Look after yourself, love," Suze told him.

He let Devi kiss his cheek, and whispered, "You too." He turned away first and headed back into the work site, and felt their eyes on him the whole way.

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** Team Striker returns to Anchorage for testing, and meets the latest class at the beleaguered Academy, including one Mako Mori. Mako's POV as the Jaeger Program suffers another devastating blow in   
>  **Chapter Forty-Three: Mayday!** _
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Kyrra Taior: Chief Engineer for Lucky Seven, then Striker Eureka. Aboriginal Australian, Herc's age. Youngest and sole surviving daughter of Marian Taior, an elderly aboriginal woman who occasionally looked after Chuck when he was younger. Susanti Hassan's long-term girlfriend.
> 
> Marshal Blake Ketteridge: Commanding Officer of Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force.
> 
> Devi/Susanti Hassan: Rangers of Vulcan Specter, Australia's Mark-3 Jaeger. Sisters, ages 31 and 29, first-generation daughters of Indonesian immigrants to Australia who graduated Jaeger Academy's Class 2016-B along with the Beckets, Kennedy LaRue, and Stephanie Lanphier.
> 
> Indra Hassan: Devi and Susanti's cousin, Vulcan Specter's support chief, age 40, graduated Class 2016-B with them but failed at drift compatibility.
> 
> Juliette and Nathan Girard: pilots of Cascade Victor, a Mark-4 Jaeger jointly launched by the US and Canada. First cousins from Quebec in their 30s, both were pilots-in-training with the Canadian Air Force before joining the Jaeger Academy Class 2018-B.
> 
> Peter Lepp and Hedy Keres: Rangers of Eden Assassin, Russia's Mark-2. Estonian Air Force pilots who met after K-Day when the PPDC was formed. They were part of the first "open admission" class of the Jaeger Academy in early 2016, and fell in love during training and later married. They are now the last surviving pilots who graduated Class 2016-A, as the Tunari brothers and previously the Shindo siblings (pilots of Japan's Mark-2, Tidal Dragon, which suffered catastrophic radiation damage in 2018) have now died.
> 
> Paul Terrence: An old friend of Stacker Pentecost's, Londoner, late 50s, who wandered the world until Stacker asked him to quietly keep an eye on Raleigh Becket, unbeknownst to Raleigh.


	43. Mayday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Striker meets the latest class at the beleaguered Academy, including one Mako Mori. Mako's POV as the Jaeger Program suffers another devastating blow, leading to her assignment to a project on which the entire world's fate will hang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** My apologies for the long wait, dear readers! Despite getting the initial draft of this finished, I've barely had a day off for the past six weeks thanks to Real World work demands. My apologies to those who are heartbroken over the deaths of Vic and Gunnar. That was a hard chapter to write, but part of the canon I decided to keep._
> 
> **_Fanon Note:_ ** _Mako and Tamsin's conversation in this chapter references events in Chapter 8 of Tales From The Front Lines, in which Tamsin goaded a mortified Stacker into giving fourteen-year-old Mako "The Talk."_

**Chapter Forty-Three** : **Mayday**

_April 2023...  
PPDC Proving Grounds and Jaeger Academy, Kodiak Island, Alaska..._

Much to Chuck's frustration, Jaeger Tech wouldn't put Striker back into service even after several successful test runs in Brisbane. "This is too important to cut corners, boyo," Kyrra told him. "That rig fault nearly killed you, and the conn-pod had to be completely re-designed. He needs extra testing."

So they were off with Striker to the main proving grounds in Anchorage for the final test phase. Schoenfeld and Franklin themselves were overseeing the final review. "In the meantime, you can mentor the new crop of candidates," Devi Hassan told him. She laughed at Chuck's dubious expression. "Well, okay, you can provide a good example of proper Ranger behavior."

Herc made a matching dubious face - as did Kyrra. Tendo and Suze guffawed. "Yeah, Chuck can be the standard by which they all measure themselves," hooted Tendo. "And Herc can be Obi-Wan Kenobi and teach them the ways of the Force."

"These aren't the Jaegers you're looking for," Herc intoned without missing a beat. "At least we're not arriving until the worst of the cold season is past."

"And we can take Max this time," Chuck agreed. He'd been a good deal more resistant to the trip until Schoenfeld made that concession. "I am looking forward to trying out that solo simulator they've got."

There was just one problem when they arrived at Kodiak: both Herc and Chuck were absolute rubbish at the solo simulations!

A majority of kills out of all the simulated drops was considered good; most of the candidates now making their way through the third trimester of Class 2023-A had decent scores. One of them, a Japanese girl who'd only just turned eighteen, had a perfect score of fifteen drops, fifteen kills, and only five kamikazes.

As for Chuck, after three weeks in Kodiak and bullying his way into the simulator every chance he got, he was at nine drops...and one kamikaze kill. Herc was slightly better, with six drops and two kills.

Chuck was mortified, and soon lost his taste for the solo simulator. The other active duty Rangers in Anchorage did their best to console him. "It's the same with all of us," Ilisapie Flint said. "Caitlin Lightcap thinks it's impossible for Rangers who've trained in the drift to adjust to operating a Jaeger without it, even in theory. We rely too much on being able to feel our partners."

Chuck scowled at the readouts of the candidates, including the Mori girl, who was kicking ass on her way to kill number sixteen, by the look of it. "So what's she, another gaming champion who thinks that's all it takes to pilot a Jaeger?"

Ilisapie and the others hissed, and Chuck sensed a spike of embarrassed alarm from Herc. They all shot nervous looks at Pentecost, but the Marshal didn't react to Chuck's jab. Obviously, Mori was a VIP of some sort, but Chuck couldn't deny that she was well qualified by her own merits. She was the top performing candidate by leaps and bounds in tech, combat, and the solo simulator.

All Mako Mori lacked was the one thing that was holding up almost all of the promising candidates: a drift compatible partner.

"She seems friendly enough," Chuck remarked to Caitlin Lightcap when they were calibrating Striker's interfaces. "Hell, most of this class have better people skills than me. Shouldn't a few of them be showing up drift compatible?"

Caitlin grinned acknowledgement of the truth of his self-observation, but then she sighed. "Remember, you and most of your contemporaries started out with a bigger pool than these latest classes. 2023-A started with less than two hundred cadets, and thirty passed the first cut. Only eight candidates passed the second cut, and that was without requiring a partner pairing like we used to. Otherwise, we'd have had zero."

Chuck was intrigued enough to challenge Mori to a round in the Kwoon at the next opportunity.

She kicked his ass, but at least she did it politely. Herc didn't have the decency to not laugh, so Chuck bowed to Mori and growled, "Since my old man seems to think he can do better, how about testing Striker's right hemisphere next?"

She didn't react to his scowl, just stepped back to the start and told Herc, "I would be honored."

She kicked Herc's ass too, but to Chuck's irritation, it was a closer match.

* * *

Mako tried not to feel resentful of Chuck Hansen. There was no question that he was a fine Ranger and a talented man, an asset to the war against the kaiju... but did he have to be so unpleasant?

She got the impression he didn't care much for her either. Or perhaps he was simply that surly with everyone. He always scowled when Herc Hansen smiled at Mako.

That didn't stop her from visiting the Assembly Building at every opportunity to peer over the J-Techs' shoulders at the final work being done on Striker Eureka. Most of her fellow candidates were the same.

It gave Mako a shock the first time she spotted the bulldog romping across the work floor while his owners were up on the catwalks. At first, she was worried, both for the dog's sake and the crew's, imagining the dangers that equipment could pose. But after some surreptitious observation, it was clear that the dog - he had to be Max, the Hansens' famous mascot - kept to the open areas while he waited for his masters to return.

Chuck Hansen came down first, deep in conversation with Dr. Katwal. Calm and focused on their task, he seemed far more the professional now that Mako felt Rangers ought to be. And Mako couldn't quite hold back a smile when Max scampered to meet them at the foot of the stairs, and both Ranger and J-Tech dropped to their knees, scratching the dog front and back without even pausing their discussion.

Max grew a little too excited and began tugging at Priya's tablet, causing Chuck to exclaim and clap his hands. "Ah-ah, go on, you pushy drongo, I'll walk you in a minute! We're working here!"

The bulldog looked so wounded as he lumbered away that Mako couldn't help the little, "aww," that escaped her - and Max perked up and came running across the floor toward her. "Oh..."

With Max hopping on his front legs at her feet, she started to bend and oblige him, then looked up anxiously towards his owners. Chuck Hansen had seen his dog's aim and gave Mako a little grin, the first smile she could recall ever noticing from him. At his nod, she gave in to Max's importuning and knelt, scratching and rubbing him up and down until he was rolling on the concrete. "You're a little whore, aren't you?" cooed one of the J-Techs.

Mako gasped, then laughed. "Don't insult the children of Rangers!"

As the third term wound on, Mako was frustrated. She had tested with every candidate in her class, and several from past classes, but failed to achieve even marginal drift compatibility. She'd had high hopes for Sebastian Rojas, a Chilean first responder who'd lost his entire family to Hardship - and who sometimes shared Mako's bed. But they topped out in the high seventy percent range.

Mako was so stressed and frustrated that Tamsin took a sojourn from Hawaii to come see her in Anchorage. "I thought people who are intimate had a good chance of compatibility," Mako confessed.

"Not necessarily," Tamsin told her. "There've been couples married for decades who failed to be compatible. And in this young man's case..." she fixed Mako with a knowing look, if still smiling. "Were you intimate because you liked him or intimate because you thought it would make you compatible?"

"Er..." Mako gulped, then blushed and looked down, suddenly ashamed. Had she been using Sebastian all this time? She wasn't in love with him. She enjoyed his company very much, at work and outside of it. They'd always had a great many things to talk about. "When... during the first trimester...there was little time to get to know each other, but I do like him. Very much."

Sebastian Rojas was very handsome; she'd noticed him during the very first assembly, along with nearly every other man and woman among the cadets. He was among a large group of South American applicants, and although they tended to stick close together, he always had a warm smile for his fellow cadets and never hesitated to accept pairings with a partner he didn't know for exercises. He spoke no Japanese, and Mako spoke little Spanish, but they both had English. Mako earned his admiration in the sparring ring, and he won hers as one of the only men to attend the optional grief counseling meetings (Sensei and Tamsin had made clear that although those sessions were voluntary, they wanted Mako to go at least from time to time).

Like Mako, Sebastian Rojas had seen a kaiju wipe out his entire family. He'd been sixteen when Hardship attacked in 2019, a young relief volunteer who helped usher everyone from his small coastal fishing village outside Concepción, Chile into the shelters. Some had been afraid that the shelters were unsafe due to the earthquakes that had preceded the kaiju. Sebastian and the authorities had been certain the bunkers would hold.

They'd only been half right. The bunkers had held up against the quake and its aftershocks, but not under the weight when Romeo Blue and Hardship passed directly over them in the grueling, sixteen-hour battle that followed. Hundreds from Sebastian's village had died in the cave-ins, including every man, woman, and child to whom he could claim a blood relation.

"I thought it was the right thing, to make them stay in the bunkers," he told the group brokenly. "Some of them wanted to run, risk the roads to head north after we heard the kaiju was coming for Concepción. I dissuaded them."

Confessing her own lingering feelings of guilt had been easy then. "I thought for many years that I was responsible for my family dying," she told the group, and Sebastian in particular. "I was certain that there was nothing that Tokyo's doctors could not cure. My parents didn't want me to be afraid, so they promised me shopping and time in the parks so I would not have to think of my father needing treatment. We had stopped to buy me new shoes, and when the sirens went off, we got lost trying to find the metro entrance. Then buildings began to fall, and I got lost in the smoke. I never saw them again."

"Do you still blame yourself, Mako?" their counselor asked.

She shook her head. It was more complicated than she let on, but she tried to be honest. "No, not the way I did then. The kaiju are to blame, not any of us. I want to make them pay for it."

A murmur of approval went through the small group. "Señorita takes it like a man," said one of the other Chileans.

Sebastian snorted. "Put away your machismo _._ The female is deadlier than the male."

The thought of drift compatibility had begun to occur to Mako after that, when she and Sebastian sparred, but there was also the fact that, now eighteen, she was growing more curious about the prospect of sex. She hadn't expected to have time to think about things like that, but among healthy, fit men and women, free from chaperones, she discovered that no matter how tired or preoccupied her mind might be, it always had room for those kinds of thoughts.

Early in the second term, as the candidates had more time to dance and talk while gauging drift compatibility, she and Sebastian had drawn closer to each other. It had taken every shred of determination she had to overcome the nervousness of inviting him back to her room, but he had accepted. They both quickly figured out that it wasn't his first time and it was hers, and he'd been a gentle, generous partner. Mako had been surprised - and a little embarrassed at how much she'd enjoyed it. From then on, they'd partnered with the intention of testing together, and she'd been certain that all would fall into place. Gossip from J-Tech said that funding was close to being high enough for a new Mark-5 to be built.

The first of those hopes were dashed when drift sync testing began, and she and Sebastian were only in the sixty percent range. A little desperate, they'd danced, slept together, and lay in bed talking of their pasts and futures, hopes and dreams. Sebastian told her of his previous lovers, even his brief, illicit teenaged experimentation with another boy during the lonely months after Hardship. Mako had never experienced any strong attraction to another girl, but she and her housemates in school had talked candidly of such things, and she and her best friend Liling had kissed on a dare.

She told him her secrets and he told her his...to no avail. Frustration and fights ensued, whispers of blame in the test drift, despite Dr. Lightcap and the pons techs' assurances that lack of compatibility was rarely the "fault" of one partner or the other.

Class 2023-A was frustrating for all concerned; no drift compatible teams emerged from the second cut. Mako and Sebastian admitted defeat and moved on to any and all of their classmates who were willing to try testing, but neither found prospects with anyone else.

Gradually, they each forced themselves to get over their incompatibility in the drift and refocus on what roles they might play in the PPDC as something other than pilots. Mako opted for J-Tech, while Sebastian resumed his medical training to be a strike trooper. When they did meet during third term, it was less awkward. They even resumed sleeping together.

One of the most light-hearted days (at least from Mako's perspective) came when it dawned on Sebastian that Marshal Pentecost knew about their relationship. Sebastian's normally-steadfast nerves failed him, and he hid from the Marshal for the rest of the day.

Tamsin roared with laughter when Mako told her that story. "I suppose it would undermine the commanding officer's authority if I admitted Stacks was probably as scared of Sebastian as Sebastian was of him. It was bad enough ghosting with him when he first gave you the talk!"

Mako poked her, giggling. "You were terrible! You knew you and my counselor had already done it!"

"Some duties can't be delegated!" retorted Tamsin in a prim tone that didn't fool Mako for a second. She ruffled Mako's hair, tweaking the blue streaks. "Neither you nor your lad have anything to be ashamed of. Drift compatibility is _more_ complicated than sexuality - if it weren't, anyone could pair off in a Jaeger as easily as they could hop into bed." Mako blushed, but grinned. "Married couples and lovers aren't always drift ccompatible. Best friends aren't always drift compatible. All the studying and practicing in the world won't force it."

"I felt that. We were both trying so hard, and it just... wasn't enough."

"All you can do is move on now, Mako-chan. Stay together as partners if you both want. Stay friends - well, that's always a good idea. Or maybe you'll grow apart as he moves on in his career and you move on in yours. That happens. All we can do after setbacks is move on."

The next setback was not merely Mako's, and even as it unfolded, she knew that moving on would be far harder for the entire Jaeger Program.

* * *

_May 1, 2023...  
PPDC Assembly Facility and Proving Grounds, Kodiak Island, Alaska…_

When the alert began, Herc and Chuck prepped Striker Eureka for a full deployment drill and hoped that Marshal Pentecost would sign off on sending them into action. Their hopes went up as Rakshasa moved due east from the Breach, but then it veered south across the Equator and into Lima's zone of protection. Panama and Los Angeles would be more likely to be called in than Anchorage.

Chuck tried not to feel sour when Cascade Victor did get called in, to join up with Solar Prophet and Rio Sentry. "Few more months, kid," Priya Katwal told him. "And you'll be back on watch."

"Who else is on watch today?" Herc asked.

"Romeo Blue, Yankee Star, and Hydra Corinthian are taking the canal...Diablo Intercept, Amazon Delta, and Chrome Brutus are heading down to Valparaiso. Cascade, Solar Prophet, and Rio Sentry are covering Lima."

"Are they thinking this bogey won't head north of Panama?" mused Chuck, tracing a line out from the kaiju blip just below the Equator.

"Looks that way. Vulcan, Mammoth, and Bering Tigress are are going to LA just in case. There's nothing to worry about."

Priya was wrong.

Rakshasa, like Millipincer before it, had no less than ten limbs. Worse, four of them were huge, lobster claw appendages with enough pressure to sever a Jaeger's armored limb. Everyone learned that the hard way the first time the bastard got a grip on Rio Sentry's leg. The screams of Rio's pilots were the worst sound Chuck had ever heard. Covering his ears might have embarrassed him at any other moment, but he was among the majority of people in the Assembly Building war room who did it.

Rio fell, crippled, and Solar and Cascade hurled themselves onto the kaiju, desperate just to get it away from her, but there were too many limbs and that goddamn whiplash tail that slashed across Prophet's torso and critically damaged his flaretorch - and breached his reactor.

It was all happening so fast. No less than six Jaegers lifted off from Panama City to the north and Valparaiso to the south. It was less than three hours' flight time from the canal to Buenaventura Bay, but the Jumphawks seemed to creep through the sky, while on the ground in Colombia, all hell was breaking loose.

Rakshasa left Rio Sentry submerged and motionless and turned the rest of his attention on the remaining two Jaegers. Cascade unloaded all of his weapons into the monster and managed to sever one of the lobster claws and half of the tail, but it was taking all his speed and maneuvers just to keep from getting grabbed. Solar Prophet was staggering already, but in spite of the desperate pleas from his partners and commanding officer back in Lima, his pilots refused to abandon the fight. Alex Quispe and Sunya Flores were two of the most experienced pilots in service, and even with the damage they'd sustained, they dodged multiple strikes.

Back-up was still seventy minutes away when Rakshasa caught one of Cascade Victor's arms and hurled the Mark-4 straight into Solar Prophet, knocking both of them over. Prophet struggled to get clear, only to be pinned down by one of the kaiju's limbs, with nothing to do but watch as Rakshasa concentrated the rest of his claws on Cascade Victor, stabbing deep into the Jaeger's torso and ripping him apart. Until his claws reached the conn-pod, Juliette and Nathan Girard's screams ground into Chuck's brain like acid.

Worse was the way they suddenly stopped.

"God DAMN IT!" Herc was the one who lost it when Rakshasa returned to finish off Solar Prophet. Alex and Sunya fought to the end, for what infinitesimal (or nonexistent) comfort it was to anyone watching.

They were the first Jaeger pilots to suicide outside the simulator, trying to take the bastard with them. They wriggled _under_ Rakshasa's belly rather than continuing to try to struggle free, then blew their nuclear core.

The blast was powerful enough to roll Rakshasa onto its back, crippling another claw and badly damaging several of the secondary limbs he used to walk. It was a long, painful silence for watchers all over the world, seeing the monster flailing to right himself and hearing nothing but silence on the comms and the ranted curses and muffled sobs around them.

Ninety minutes after Lima LOCCENT lost signal with Solar Prophet, Hydra Corinthian touched down in Buenaventura Bay before the disoriented kaiju had even found his way to shore. She unleashed her sonic pulse twice before either of her heavier partners had arrived, with Lanphier and LaRue snarling vengeance and calling their maneuvers in tear-roughened voices.

They re-charged and hit the bastard a third time from a distance as Yankee Star landed behind them, then cautiously stepped aside so that Davis and Mitchell could vivisect Rakshasa with Yankee's lasers without every getting within arm's reach of the kaiju. They were downright sadistic about it, severing every last one of Rakshasa's limbs before beheading him for good measure.

By the time Romeo Blue landed, it was already over.

Nobody cheered anywhere.

* * *

_New York Times  
May 2, 2023_

**_THE MAY DAY MAYDAY!  
_ ** **_Three Jaegers destroyed, six pilots dead! Catastrophe strikes the PPDC!_ **

_It's being called the bloodiest day in Jaeger Program history. Although civilian casualties were minimal, that's little consolation to the devastated families of six Rangers who perished in Buenaventura Bay on Monday._

_Mark-2 Solar Prophet, flying the Peruvian flag and piloted by Alejandro Quispe and Sunya Flores of Peru, launched July 31, 2016 from Kodiak Island, Alaska._

_Mark-4 Rio Sentry, flying the Panamanian flag and piloted by Elida Morales of the United States and Nicho Conte of Costa Rica, launched May 9, 2018 from Buenos Aires, Brazil._

_Mark-4 Cascade Victor, flying the American and Canadian flags and piloted by Juliette and Nathan Girard of Quebec, Canada, launched June 1, 2019 from Kodiak Island, Alaska._

_An entire hemisphere has plunged into mourning, with tributes and condolences coming in from the entire globe. Even as processions of grateful, grieving civilians are surrounding the site of this tragedy, the United Nations is calling a special session to determine whether a changed response is necessary to combat the ever-growing threat of the kaiju._

_The International Wall of Life Coalition released a statement within twenty-four hours of the event which alleged that this tragedy is further proof of why the Jaeger Program is unsustainable and should be sunsetted in favor of a coastal wall for all population centers around the Pacific Ocean. In response, supporters of the Jaeger Program expressed outrage, calling the press release an insensitive, opportunistic act which mocks the sacrifice of six brave men and women._

_United States Senator Gilbert Block (R - Texas), chairman of the Joint Committee on Pacific Coast Defense and ardent supporter of the coastal wall program, stood his ground against the protests. "No one mourns the loss of servicemen more than I do. I come from a proud military family, and I don't want to see any more brave soldiers killed defending useless territory. The Jaegers were as big and scary-looking as the kaiju, and great for comic books, but useless as long-term defense. This tragedy is proof of that."_

_Block's opponents point to investments he has disclosed in development companies building exclusive residential communities in the Texas Panhandle, Oklahoma, and elsewhere in the Great Plains with the allegation that his intention has always been to profit off inland real estate if the Pacific Coast defense efforts fail. He denies this, but there can be no doubt that Senator Block is among a growing coalition of domestic and international voices who insist that the fall of these three Jaegers, less than six months since the loss of Coyote Tango, signals the beginning of the end of the Jaeger Program._

* * *

Striker Eureka was to return to active duty in October. Mako gritted her teeth and fought to keep composure through the memorials that followed May Day, and tried to console the personnel who'd been closest to the Girards and the other pilots.

A few days after the official two-week mourning period had ended, Marshal Pentecost summoned Mako to the Shatterdome. "Ms. Mori, you'll be completing the formal Academy training at the end of this trimester. Have you considered what placement you'll request?"

"Yes, sir. I will continue with J-Tech Engineering if it is permitted." She knew that it would be. Dr. Schoenfeld and Dr. Katwal had already asked her to stay on. "However, I wish to remain among the prospective pilots."

Sensei hesitated, faltering so briefly that most people would never have noticed. Mako steeled herself and waited. "I see. Although your simulator score is unmatched, maintaining pilot training readiness will be a drain on your time, especially if you want to accept J-Tech's offer of further formal training as an engineer."

"I'm prepared to maintain both, sir. I've balanced my studies with Bushido training up to this point."

"And that's an accomplishment," he agreed, but she heard the "but" coming. "However, high school and even undergraduate studies are not nearly as demanding as a graduate degree in hands-on engineering. Particularly in light of the project I wish to nominate you for."

"Project?" Mako couldn't help the way her voice changed, and saw his lips twitch.

"Indeed." He was dissembling, slyly amused that she'd gotten excited, but his good humor abruptly faded. "In light of...recent events, there is no longer a budget sufficient to build a second Mark-5. For at least the next two budget years, that will be the case." Mako's heart sank, both in disappointment for the designs that would not come to fruition and also for the reminder once more of the six pilots who'd gone into battle in Colombia and would never go home. It wasn't fair. Marshal Pentecost went on in a hurry, "Dr. Katwal and I have been considering the options of how best to use the construction budget we do have committed for the next two years. All of the Jaegers that were previously designated for re-launch have been repaired. So now we have the option of restoring another mech."

The first choice came to Mako with barely any need to think about it: "Coyote Tango," she murmured.

Sensei dropped his eyes. "That...that can be considered. The first task of the project will be to evaluate all the mechs taken out of commission due to damage and determining what is feasible. I'd like to assign you to this project."

Mako's first impulse was to blurt out yes without taking the time to think about it. But she caught herself. Committing to something so big without considering all the implications would be very unwise. "That...appears to be a very appealing assignment." She tried to read his face before asking, "Are there any reservations that I should consider?"

They didn't always agree, but Sensei would not lie to her, and she very much doubted that PPDC Marshal Stacker Pentecost would willingly lie to anyone else. He might refuse to reveal some things, but he was not a deceitful man. He pondered the question, then said, "I expect it will be a sought-after project, although it may involve visits to Oblivion Bay and other wreck sites, which are... unpleasant at the best of times, not to mention hazardous."

That was no surprise, but it didn't bode well for any chance of restoring Coyote Tango. She had been in a full meltdown which was only stopped by drowning her reactor in seawater. Repairs after an event like that would be tremendously difficult, if not even more expensive than building a new Jaeger from the ground up. Mako ran her mind through other possible drawbacks, then fixed her adoptive father with a steady stare. "Will I be permitted to maintain pilot readiness by my own choice?"

In other words, so long as she was physically and mentally capable, would he agree not to stand in her way?

"Yes. Provided you fulfill your other duties, the activities you pursue in your own time are up to you." She pursed her lips. As if to pilot a Jaeger and destroy the kaiju who'd slaughtered her family and so many others was just a silly girl's fancy.

He sensed her offense without her having to make a sound, and after a moment, he relented, softening from purely "Marshal" stance. "I know what being a pilot would mean to you, Mako, It's only that there are other ways to have an impact in this war, and adding another Jaeger to our fleet is a major one. Or returning one to our fleet, that is."

"Will the restoration work be here at Kodiak?" she asked. He nodded. "Then there is no barrier to me working on the project while also testing with potential partners." She had no intention of abandoning her efforts to pilot a Jaeger unless and until there were no more Jaegers to be piloted. It was better not to think too much about how that might come about.

After departing the Marshal's office, she returned to Kodiak in time to see Striker Eureka out on the Proving Grounds, practicing evasive maneuvers. It gave her an entire new pang of grief, disgust, and longing, to think of the difference it would have made to have another Mark-5 with capabilities like this against Rakshasa. Sensei and the engineers had been so close to securing the funding and greenlighting the project. He'd been as neutral and contained as ever in discussing it, but Mako had recognized the hope in him for what another Mark-5 could accomplish.

Barking broke through her maudlin thoughts, and none other than Striker Eureka's mascot came galumphing towards her. Mako grinned and dropped to a crouch to greet the dog, since his owners were preoccupied.

_All isn't lost,_ she told herself. _There will still be another Jaeger. And soon Striker Eureka will be back._ They would honor Elida Morales and Nicho Conte, Alex Quispe and Sunya Flores, and Juliette and Nathan Girard just as they did the Tunaris, and every other Ranger who had fallen in battle. They would make the kaiju pay for every life they had taken. _Jaegers don't sunset so easily._

**_To Be Continued..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Coming Soon:_ ** _International pressure is only growing, and within the Jaeger Program, things are becoming desperate as Striker Eureka returns to combat and the great Brawler Yukon comes out of retirement. But Herc and Chuck find themselves as eyewitnesses to more than one disaster in Chapter Forty-Four: The Pale Horse!_
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Dr. Priya Katwal: J-Tech senior Engineer, formerly NASA, now designs conn-pod support systems, Indian, late 50s.
> 
> Sebastian Rojas: Chilean Jaeger Program candidate, age 20, who lost his entire family when Hardship attacked Concepción in 2019. Mako's first sexual relationship, but despite mutual effort, they weren't drift compatible.
> 
> Juliette and Nathan Girard: pilots of Cascade Victor, a Mark-4 Jaeger jointly launched by the US and Canada. First cousins from Quebec in their mid-20s, both were pilots-in-training with the Canadian Air Force before joining the Jaeger Academy Class 2018-B.
> 
> Alejandro (Alex) Quispe and Sunya Flores: pilots of Solar Prophet, Mark-2, mid-30s, Peruvians of mixed Quechan/Latino ancestry. A romantic couple who worked in the Peruvian railway industry before K-Day.
> 
> Elida Morales and Nicho Conte: Rangers of Rio Sentry, a Panamanian Mark-4 Jaeger. Early 30s, Elida is Hispanic American and Nicho is native Costa Rican. They met for the first time at the Jaeger Academy but succeeded at drifting.


	44. The Pale Horse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Striker witnesses a disaster close to home, and Herc and Stacker receive even more grim news. International hostility against the Jaeger Program grows, and the great Brawler Yukon comes out of retirement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** Many thanks to all of you for your wonderful reviews! Please keep them coming!_

**Chapter Forty-Four: The Pale Horse**

_Sydney Shatterdome…  
October 2023..._

Until this year, Jaeger launches had been celebratory events, full of fanfare and public elation and optimism. Even when a Jaeger was returned to service after long repairs, crowds turned out to cheer the first time the mech appeared on its base grounds, and the media was full of feel-good, fluffy articles and picture albums.

When Striker Eureka returned to service, there was no missing how things had changed. Supporters and Jaeger enthusiasts still turned out, but alongside them were crowds of protestors.

**_Finish the Wall!_ **

**_War is not the answer!_ **

**_Thanks for nothing!_ **

**_Jaegers: High-tech parasites!_ **

"Classy, aren't they?" Greg Oliver scoffed on the way back from a full deployment drill. "Well, if they want to go negotiate a peace treaty with the kaiju, fine, we'll all stand down and leave them to it. I'd just as soon have my boy back on the same continent as me."

"If they think we're useless to them, maybe they should 'opt out' of our protection," said Herc.

"And not allowed to opt back in the next time a kaiju heads for Sydney," Chuck agreed.

"To hell with them," Devi said. "We know our own worth, and our mechs'."

The Rangers still had a vocal following, and Chuck and Herc were willing enough to go along with Devi and Suze in expressing their appreciation for the supporters. The tricky part was dodging the protestors will visiting with the supporters. The MPs on Brisbane base were co-conspirators in herding the protestors one way while slyly directing the actual Jaeger fans to meet the Rangers somewhere else on the grounds.

That worked - for awhile, until some "fight the man" anti-government, anti-PPDC band got the bright idea of infiltrating the supporters just for the sake of starting shit with the Rangers. Team Striker and Team Vulcan were fielding questions and signing autographs when Chuck suddenly found himself with a crazed twenty-something girl in his face, waving a pamphlet and screeching at the top of her lungs about "selective protection" and "evolutionary opposition."

Half the bystanders panicked, while the other half reached for their phones, and Chuck just stood there trying to wrap his brain around what the bloody hell she was talking about. _Evolution...terraforming...vaccines!?_

"...what?!"

He went viral.

"I'm so proud of you!" Devi gushed afterward.

"Yeah, both for not hitting that lunatic bint in the face _and_ for conveying the sheer ass-over-teakettle whatthefuckery of that speech," said Tendo.

"She's claiming now that Chuck assaulted her - don't worry about it, kid," said Suze, seeing Chuck's alarmed expression. "You were on camera from every possible angle. There's no question you never put your hands on her, even though she definitely put hers on you."

* * *

_October 24, 2023...  
Hamamatsu, Japan..._

A month later, Striker went back into action. They paired off with Tacit Ronin near the entrance to Lake Hamana, Japan, off the shores of Hamamatsu. _"Incoming Category III, codename Vodyanoy, just a smidge bigger than Girtabliu and Yamarashi,_ " said Tendo from LOCCENT.

_Bastard bears more than a passing resemblance to Knifehead,_ thought Herc. He "nudged" Chuck in the drift. _Don't say that aloud, not to Tendo or where any of the Team Gipsy transplants can hear._

Chuck was half-annoyed, half-sympathetic - annoyed with his old man for poking that sore spot, but sympathetic to Tendo, Valentina, Hien and the others. Observations were observations, and everyone in the Corps had to deal with old memories, but on the other hand, Team Striker and Team Ronin had taken on Knifehead himself in the simulator. The similarities weren't going to escape Danny and Evie.

In the end, Danny said it, evidently forgetting some of the background of Team Striker's crew. _"This fucker looks like Knifehead. About the same size too."_

_"Yeah, extra set of arms, too, Ronin, so watch out,"_ said Tendo. Chuck and Herc both noticed the catch in his voice, but if Danny or Evie did, they didn't say.

They made their stand in the shallows near the Hamana Bypass Bridge, and just waited for Vodyanoy to come to them. " _You have a huge runoff stream from that location, Rangers,_ " said K-Watch. " _He's making right for it."_

Chuck couldn't help but notice the huge pylons a hundred meters or so from the coastline, too big to be the foundation for any bridge. "Let me guess. Coastal Wall?"

" _Got it in one,_ " said Evie. _"We've still got a lot of support, but the national government is hedging its bets. And there's much bitching about the cost of repairs after every engagement._ "

The engagement lasted thirteen hours...and did wind up ripping a half-dozen of the Wall pylons apart when Vodyanoy tried to retreat to deeper water, and the two Jaegers had to tackle him. _"LOCCENT, I swear to God, we did not do that on purpose!_ " Danny Oliver insisted.

" _We'll deal with the damage control, Ronin, you just worry about pointy-face out there,_ " said Tokyo LOCCENT.

To the intense relief of all concerned, Striker's re-designed conn-pod systems had no signal degradation or overheating this time around. So even though Chuck and Herc were bloody exhausted, sore, and bruised head to toe by the end, they ran into no malfunctions for either hemisphere. However, they did run out of K-Stunners, meaning they had to dismember Vodyanoy in close-quarters, spilling Blue everywhere and taking turns pinning the bastard down so they could hack into the armored skull for the kill.

Nova Hyperion and Silver Lion waited on the shore to tag Striker and Ronin out if the fight lasted another hour, but between the two of them, they finally managed to wear the bastard down and finish him. "Not the cleanest kill ever," muttered Herc, shaking Kaiju Blue and brain matter off his hand. "Damn, there's too much contamination out here - LOCCENT, I think we'd better walk to shore. There's way too much toxicity outside, and our lift gear's compromised."

" _Copy that, Striker, can you manage washing off and getting back to land on foot? We're talking another thirty, forty-five minutes in the drift,"_ Tendo warned.

Chuck squinted at the drift readout on the HUD. "Yeah, I think we're good. Bloody tired, but we're still at a hundred percent."

" _Ronin, how 'bout you?"_

" _We're okay for another hour, especially without more combat - ah, shit...yeah, straight lifting isn't an option, my shoulder gear's gone,"_ said Evie. " _We'll come in on Ometahama Park. Striker, give us a few hundred meters for our choppers."_

_"_ That's a plan," agreed Chuck. "Ronin on the right, Striker on the left."

Walking back to shore after fourteen hours of drift was easier said than done; it took all of Chuck and Herc's concentration to keep focused on moving in the right direction and not pitching over. More annoying was the sudden increase in air traffic. "The fuck - " Chuck and Herc flinched away from a buzzer in their face and nearly wound up falling. "LOCCENT, tell the bloody reporters to give us space!"

" _Sorry, Striker, those are damn drones. We're burning up all the channels telling them to get the damn things away from you unless they want to get swatted like mosquitoes."_

"'f I could tell the difference between the drones and the choppers, don't think I wouldn't," Herc grunted.

Just as they reached the shore, there was a commotion over the comm lines. _"Hey, watch it - "_

_"- LOCCENT -"_

_"Whoever's piloting those craft, get them out of the flight paths!"_

_"Mayday, impact in the rotors, mayd - "_

Chuck and Herc dove for the comm. "What the hell's going on?!" Herc bellowed.

Chuck squinted out at the bay, and his heart dropped as a billow of smoke erupted near the foundation of the Wall. "Fuck."

_"We need Coast Guard assistant, emergency, spotter Davey Two is down, repeat, we have a spotter helicopter down!"_

_Davey Two...one of ours - crew of three, that's Tina Medina, Jayesh Pal, and Omeo Plinara._ "We've gotta go back out there," Chuck breathed.

" _Whoa, hold it, Striker, uh-uh,_ " said Tendo. " _You guys have been drifting almost fourteen hours. You need to power down. Coast Guard is on its way. Come on, there's nothing you can do."_

Chuck felt Herc's resignation, his awareness that Tendo was right, but tugged at the drift in protest. _But we can't...they're our crew!_

Herc gazed bleakly at the smoke plume, rising black and oily above the ocean. He knew what it meant, and so Chuck couldn't help knowing - but Chuck still didn't want to walk away, didn't want to just power down like everything was okay. They were the Rangers, they were in charge, they couldn't...

_Chuck. It's already over._ Herc held onto him in the drift, practically overriding control over Chuck's own limbs to keep him from reaching for the controls or charging back out into the water. Chuck just stared at the smoke plume and couldn't make himself disengage. That would mean admitting they weren't going to try, and just letting Tina, Jayesh, and Omeo die. _There's nothing we can do._

Goddammit, old man!

" _Rangers, this is Admiral Yamamoto. You must power down. That's an order."_

Herc pulled at him harder. _Come on. It's over._

_It's not right!_

_It happens._

Chuck seethed at his old man. How could he be so resigned about their own crew? Herc bristled in the drift, but he wasn't giving in. Mum/Angela's face flashed through the headspace, and then Chuck relented with a snarl and they couldn't deactivate the handshake fast enough.

_Left them…left her…left everyone._ The thoughts sizzled in the back of Chuck's mind, and he knew it wasn't fair and he ought to push them away, but he didn't. He knew Herc could pick it up from the ghost drift, and was bitterly glad. Herc deserved to know.

He shook off the condolences and concerns of Danny and Evie when the teams regrouped at the Shatterdome, and he and Herc endured the debriefing and medical exams in stony silence. Chuck _almost_ relented when he felt the lance of grief though the ghost drift when the Japanese Coast Guard confirmed there were no survivors from the chopper crash.

"They are going to trace those drones and find out who is responsible," Admiral Yamamoto promised.

It wasn't much consolation, especially not with some American reporter droning on the TV about all the damage the Jaegers did. " _One of their stupid spotter pilots hit a drone and crashed! They set back work on the Wall of Life almost six months!_ "

Chuck jumped up so fast he knocked over his chair, and only Herc pulling him back kept him from throwing everything within reach at the holoscreen. "Turn that garbage off!" Tendo bellowed.

If the Japanese crew were startled by how loud the Americans and Aussies could be, they didn't show it, and soon only the official PPDC network reports were running. Those were bad enough. The official announcement of the loss of Valentina, Jayesh, and Omeo would come from Sydney once it was confirmed, but the news was already spreading that one of Striker's spotters had gone down.

This had been Chuck and his old man's longest drift yet. Chuck's senses were buzzing, every nerve in his body trying to force him to move closer to Herc, but he resisted it. _We shouldn't have left. They were our crew; we had no right to just leave them._

Evie and Danny had no such grudges keeping them separated, and they were wrapped around each other until the medics said they were clear. Instead of sprinting for their quarters, as Chuck would've expected, to his dismay, they came towards him. "Mate, I'm - "

" – shut _up_ , Oliver!" Chuck snapped, but Evie promptly lunged at him.

"Hey! Don't start taking your shit out on him, Hansen! It's not our fault!" Evie cast a long look at Chuck and then over his shoulder to where Chuck knew his old man was, but to both of their intense relief, she didn't comment on the distance between them. "C'mon. Medics have cleared us. Let's get a drink."

Chuck started to mutter a refusal, then thought better of it. He needed distraction from that pull in the ghost drift that kept trying to draw him back to his old man. "Okay."

To his disgust, Danny just couldn't resist. "Sir?" he asked Herc.

But Herc waved them off. "Nah, you kids go on. I'll take care of business."

Chuck hurried out of the infirmary door without a backward glance.

* * *

_Yeah, I'll take care of business, you stubborn little shit. You go off and celebrate the kill while I deal with actually consoling the crew who bloody noticed Tina, Jayesh, and Omeo before now._ Herc restrained himself from snapping at his own crew while looking up who the next of kin were and figuring out what reports had to go out. The final reports would be Ketteridge's job, but Herc didn't trust him with that any more than anything else.

The Team Gipsy transplants were taking it the hardest. Tendo rampaged through the Dome much in the same way Herc was doing, but Herc could see that his eyes were red. Hien Nguyen shoved a tablet with her strike troop team's reports into Herc's hands, then practically ran away from him. Herc started to follow, but Tendo held up a hand. "Hey, don't."

Herc looked at him. "She okay?"

"Well, no, but…" Tendo turned his attention quickly to the LOCCENT screens. "She doesn't like people to see when…"

Herc got it. "Yeah, okay."

"You and Chuck?"

Now it was Herc's turn to look away and hurriedly change the subject. "The kid doesn't get it. He wanted to go charging back out, like we could've done anything."

"First time you lose people, it's hard," Tendo said. "He'll understand eventually. We all had to learn that lesson. Tina...she piloted Whiskey Gamma, after we lost the whole strike troop in Concepción." He fell silent, and Herc pretended to be concentrating on the screens. Then the comm chirped. "Hey, call coming in for you. It's Devi and Suze."

Herc sighed. "I'll take it in quarters." He knew Chuck would be off with Danny and Evie, so he'd have the guest bunk to himself for the night.

He cursed himself for the stab of emotion that went through his heart when he saw the Hassans on the holoscreen; Chuck would catch it in the ghost drift after such a long combat ride. The sisters' eyes were all too knowing. " _How is everyone?_ "

"Much as you'd expect," he said briskly. "The other strike troops are taking it hard. Chuck's…not too pleased with me."

_"_ _Yeah, we had a feeling he'd wanted to push the issue._ " Devi scanned Herc's surroundings. _"He's not with you?_ "

"Nah, he went off to drown sorrows with Team Ronin. They'll be fine."

" _When are you due back?_ "

"Probably a few days since there'll be incident reports." Herc's screen popped up with another incoming call, from Stacker Pentecost. "Damn, I better take this. I'll call you back."

He toggled the call to accept Stacker's, and saw a Pentecost who looked far wearier than today's events accounted for. " _Herc?_ "

"Stacker. Any better news from your side of the lake?"

Stacker actually sighed. Now that Herc looked at him, his heart sank still lower. Stacker Pentecost didn't betray distress willingly, but he was betraying a lot. " _I wish I had some good news for you. It's about Tamsin._ "

Now Herc's heart and stomach went into freefall. "Oh, God."

" _Her cancer has returned. The prognosis isn't good._ "

_Tam? Not you too._ "What're you going to do?"

Stacker looked off into the distance. " _I want – wanted to join her in Hawaii, but she won't let me. We just had a blazing row about it. She doesn't want me to watch her die._ "

"How long has she known? She may be in shock, just need a little time to…" Herc trailed off at the look on Stacker's face. "Damn. It's unreasonable, to not let you be near at all."

"She'll let me visit. And Mako. But _only_ visits, until the – the end."

Herc realized then that the churning of his insides wasn't due to his own distress – now it was ricocheting through the ghost drift. Chuck wasn't with Oliver and Nakano anymore. He tried to send reassurance back through – _nothing for you to be worried about, kid, go on_ – but Chuck came through the door in a rush a moment later. "Dad?!"

He stopped in surprise at seeing Stacker on the holoscreen, and Stacker quickly schooled his features into professional detachment. Herc sighed. "Anything I can do?"

" _On the…personal matter, I doubt it. I thought you should know. Ranger Hansen_." Stacker nodded to Chuck. " _I was very sorry to see the loss of your spotter team today. They were good officers._ "

"Thank you, sir." Chuck wavered, unsure of whether to retreat or stick around, and much to Herc's surprise, he opted to stay.

So Stacker went on. " _I wish that was the only bad news. The UN in its wisdom doesn't expect new Jaegers to be a wise investment. We'll graduate two teams this year, and we have a modest-sized class for 2024-A. But that will be the least. The Academy is closing next summer."_

* * *

"Keep your spirits up, love, that's all any of us can do," Devi told Chuck when they got back to Sydney. Herc didn't tell anyone about Tamsin's condition, knowing that Stacker and Tam would tell the people they wanted to know. Chuck couldn't help knowing it, of course.

The PR liaisons had to employ the MPs to keep the Rangers from storming out of the Dome and attacking the media when the stories broke accusing Tina Medina of negligent flying for the helicopter crash. Dr. Dahari dragged Herc and Chuck into multiple sessions just to vent their fury.

The stories of the "bungled Jaeger engagement" left the headlines only to be replaced by news of the Jaeger Academy's upcoming closure – and the decision, in light of same, that Brawler Yukon was going back into service.

He would be piloted by the same pair who'd always commanded him: Caitlin Lightcap and Sergio D'onofrio.

Herc wasn't sure why, but the whole thought was more of foreboding than anything else. _Brawler's old. Old tech, old design, old strategies. The kaiju are bigger and faster than they were then, and Cait and Sergio… they've been out of commission for a long time._

He dared to ask Stacker, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

" _No._ " Stacker was utterly blunt. " _Not at all sure. But Caitlin is determined, and Sergio is backing her. They started refitting Brawler after the Rakshasa engagement, and they've been doing simulations since then. It will be a few weeks yet. Probably after the new year._ "

So Caitlin had made the decision while grieving for six pilots. Many pundits were calling it the last gasp of the PPDC. Herc couldn't even be sure if he disagreed, and from the grim expression on Stacker's face, Stacker felt the same.

The grim mood didn't improve much when Brawler re-launched. It was a low-key affair, barely covered in the media except by those fuming at more "waste" of resources on the Jaeger Program. Funding for the coastal walls had quadrupled, though other media sources were reporting that the men working on it were getting paid in slave's wages, if at all, and that safety measures were nonexistent.

* * *

_January 1, 2024…_

Spirits did lift within the Jaeger Program with the return of Brawler, and on New Year's Day, Tacit Ronin got the honor of joining Brawler and Romeo Blue defending Nome, Alaska against Bukavac, a Category IV. Herc and Chuck returned with Striker to Sydney once it was clear the kaiju was heading northeast from the Breach, and they gathered with Team Vulcan in the war room to watch the engagement.

Thanks to the ghost drift, he had to deal with his own pounding heart and his son's. Neither of them had been so anxious about a deployment in a long time, if ever. Judging by the looks on the Hassans' and their Dome-mates faces, every other Ranger felt the same.

Of the three Jaegers, Brawler was the widest, squattest, and slowest. On the other hand, his center of gravity was far lower than Ronin's or Romeo's. _"Scalene triangle, Ronin. Take our eight o'clock,_ " ordered the Gages.

" _Giving the old-timers the back point, are we?"_ said Caitlin in an acid tone. Herc winced. Her mood had turned harder in every teleconference over the past couple of years, and in off-the-record communications, she wasn't much better. There was something dark and bitter in her these days, and Herc knew he wasn't the only one in the Corps who feared what it would mean when she went back into battle.

On the other hand, Brawler's updated sim results were promising, assuming J-Tech had done their job in refitting and updating his systems. Caitlin and Sergio had done simulation runs with most of the northern Jaegers and acquitted themselves well. The two of them hadn't had an engagement in almost nine years, but they hadn't slacked on physical fitness, Jaeger Bushido or tactics. They were both younger than Herc.

Bukavac ran from Romeo only to be intercepted by Ronin, and as the Japanese Jaeger maneuvered to keep the kaiju from escaping, Brawler moved in. _"Here we go!"_ They pile drove Bukavac with sheer mass and slammed into the rocky seabed, buying time for Romeo to get into position.

" _Cover!"_ Romeo unleashed his guns as his two partners pulled free, and the kaiju could only scramble and try to shield its face and vitals from the barrage.

Someone in the Sydney war room had the news broadcasts running on a tablet. _"All three Jaegers are closing with the kaiju now! Brawler Yukon may not have seen action for almost ten years, but he's right in the middle! Tacit Ronin has his blades out – Romeo Blue is retreating, but looks like Brawler Yukon is pinning the kaiju down while his partner is slicing and dicing!"_

On the PPDC comm line, Evie Nakano was yelling, " _Hold him – watch the teeth!_ "

Bukavac managed to wriggle enough to try to close his jaws around Brawler's right wrist. _"AAH – fuck!"_ Caitlin wrenched away and slammed her elbow into his face again and again, and they didn't let up on Brawler's weight against the kaiju's trunk.

Romeo made his way around the back end so he could stomp down on the thick, heavy whiplash tail and provide even more leverage for Ronin's blades.

But Bukavac was a Category IV, and finally garnered enough energy – or desperation – to buck his assailants off, and sent Ronin flying. Romeo and Brawler fell back onto him, and between the two of them, this time the kaiju wasn't going anywhere. " _Hold him, Romeo! Arming shoulder rockets for point blank – we've got his neck right on target!_ "

" _Turn your face away! You're in range of shrapnel!"_

" _Got it! Hang on!_ " Smoke erupted, and the kaiju writhed, churning the scene into haze and foam and kaiju blue until nobody could make out what was going on.

On the comm, Sergio and Caitlin were grunting and cursing, but didn't seem to be in any distress despite the up-close rocket impacts. Ronin righted himself with much cursing from Danny and Evie, and came hustling back, but didn't make it before Anchorage LOCCENT announced, " _No signature!_ "

"WOOOOO! THAT for the haters!" Tendo Choi roared, and the Sydney war room erupted into cheers and gasps of relief and triumph.

The euphoria didn't last. One of the US politicians who was advocating so passionately for the Wall was already being interviewed, shaking his head in mock-reluctance. _"We all remember how it felt to see Brawler Yukon destroy Karloff in 2015, but let's face it: Jaegers are obsolete. It's a relief to see that Dr. Lightcap and Captain D'onofrio came through this fight okay, but it isn't going to last! The Jaeger Program isn't the fix we need, and it's only going to bring about its own destruction – not to mention the rest of us."_

"Fuckers," growled Susanti, and stalked away.

Herc sent Stacker a private email. _Dare I hope that the UN is reconsidering its plan to close the Academy after seeing Brawler back in action?_

Stacker replied within minutes: _I'm afraid not, and despite today's victory, the newest development isn't good. The American government is in talks to sell both the Anchorage and Los Angeles Shatterdomes. They're going to phase out their participation in the Jaeger Program entirely in favor of the coastal wall. As they go, so goes the rest of the Corps._

* * *

_February 2024…_

From New Year's Day on, attacks came less than a month apart. The engagements went well, with few civilian casualties and no Jaegers out of commission – but to hear the media and the protestors talk, anyone would think the Jaegers did more damage than the kaiju. It got to the point that the PR representatives didn't bother with promotional work at all, just debunking bullshit rumors and filtering through inquiries to find the ones from reporters they could actually trust to be honest. (And making sure the Rangers and crew knew who to avoid when they left the Shatterdome – which was a rarer and rarer privilege.)

Sydney's Wall of Life was projected to be finished by the end of the year.

Still, the Jaeger Program wasn't without defenders. After Brawler's successful return to service, supporters of the PPDC began lobbying for a coordinated worldwide effort in all the cities that had been saved by Jaegers to honor their heroics – and their dead. It ended up being scheduled for February 29 – Leap Day – thanks in no small part to a vocal, passionate group in the Anchorage area.

Proponents of the Jaeger Program set up rallies and memorials all over the world, in cities where Rangers and their strike troopers had come from, and where Jaegers had saved lives.

Much to the Rangers' satisfaction, even in those cities where engagements had gone terribly wrong, like Guayaquil and Concepcion, hundreds of people were planning to turn out.

After Horizon Brave and Tacit Ronin took out Xiangliu in the Philippines – back-to-back engagements for Ronin! – at the end of January, Tendo approached Herc. "K-Watch is thinking events are going to be less than a month apart from here on out. If they're right, we'll get the next one right before Leap Day. If they do, all of us ex-Team Gipsy crowd are gonna try and meet up in Anchorage, if we can get leave."

Herc smiled and held out a hand for Tendo's tablet, glad to give his thumbprint of approval. "It depends on alert status just like everything these days, but for what it's worth, you've got my support."

Tendo gave him a wry look. "You think Ketteridge might let Devi and Suze go? They've signed off for Indra, but you know how he is about letting pilots off the leash – especially them."

"Oh yeah. Maybe it'll be enough that Chuck and I stay here. We don't have local ties anywhere else."

He felt Chuck's consternation in the ghost drift. Reminders of the Beckets still grated the kid's nerves even after all this time, but Chuck wasn't going to try to stand in the way of crew still grieving for their late pilot. But Herc couldn't help but muse: _I wonder whatever happened to Raleigh?_

He could feel Chuck scowling the next time they were in the simulator when that thought slipped out.

Devi and Suze didn't ask Ketteridge for leave before the next engagement. "We've got a plan assuming the bloody kaiju cooperate for once," Devi told him. "So not a word from either of you!"

"I wouldn't dare," Herc replied, and Chuck smoothed down his hackles enough to laugh.

K-Watch was right, and for once, the kaiju did cooperate. The next Breach event came during the final week of February. The Western Hemisphere coverage was still low, so Ketteridge tapped Striker and Mammoth to cross over to California and back up Romeo Blue and Yankee Star. Ironically enough, they made the intercept off Eureka, California. _"Must be a sign,_ " said the Gages.

Ordure, a Category III, was stupid enough to try to close with Yankee and Romeo rather than wrangle with the faster Striker and Mammoth. He ended up with a barrage of Gatlin fire in his face, followed by lasers and incendiary bombs from Yankee, and when he tried to back off, Herc and Chuck let him have it with the K-Stunners. Those knocked him right down at Yankee's feet, and within five hours, Yankee and Romeo had cut him into pieces. All that was left for Striker and Mammoth to do was help clean up the mess, and that was mostly Mammoth, since he had an afterburner torch.

Back at Los Angeles Shatterdome, they gave debriefing and noticed the crews in a bigger hurry than usual. "A lot of the staff have places they wanna be for Leap Day," said Caleb Mitchell, Yankee Star's left hemisphere. "Marshal Ramirez said they could have leave if it fell within ten days of the engagement, so we're good."

Herc and Chuck signed off on the rest of Team Striker's personnel who wanted leave, either to go home for a week or attend a memorial outside Sydney, and discovered, to their amusement, what Suze and Devi's plan was for getting to Anchorage: they just asked when there were witnesses.

Ketteridge was giving his post-engagement press blather about Striker's deployment (a little sour since Striker hadn't been awarded the kill), and a reporter that Herc knew was on good terms with the Hassans asked, " _Are there plans for the memorials next Thursday, Marshal?_ "

Ketteridge hadn't taken any interest in the local events, but he wasn't about to admit that. _"Of course. Talon Tasmania was stationed here, you know, and we lost a spotter crew only a few months ago. There will be local events, and I've granted leave to crews who want to attend other events for their friends and colleagues._ "

_"_ _Oh, Marshal?_ " Herc and Chuck let out barks of laughter in unison at the honey-sweet, innocent tone from Suze Hassan. " _Does that include the Rangers since the last event was so recent? My sister and I lost a classmate on Leap Day four years ago, and weren't able to attend his funeral in Anchorage due to the alerts. It would mean_ so _much if we could attend this one._ "

Some of the bystanders gave little " _aww"_ 's of sympathy, and the reporters all looked expectantly at Ketteridge. He was stuck, and he knew it. " _Of course, ladies._ _So long as I have one team here in Sydney, I'll be happy to authorize it._ "

Herc and Chuck exchanged a droll look, then saw the reluctant expressions of Ken and Bobby. "You two want to go to Anchorage?" Chuck asked.

Mammoth's pilots shook their heads. "We were hoping to get leave to stay here, actually, if only just for the memorials. We rode with…a bunch of the guys from down south that we've lost. Matador, Rio Sentry, Solar Prophet."

"Say no more," said Herc. "Let's tag-team Ketteridge like Devi and Suze just did. We'll head back to Sydney."

With the promise of Team Striker remaining on-site, Ketteridge granted Ken Gould and Bobby Kanda's request for a week's leave in Los Angeles, and the other personnel who wanted to attend memorials outside Sydney

Herc was startled when Chuck intercepted a group of the American Marines who were heading to their various bases. "Any of you going to Corpus Christi?"

"Yeah," said several. "Naval Air Station is holding an event for some of the personnel. It's home for a few of us."

Chuck held out an envelope. "It's just a thing I wrote, for Valentina Medina. She was from there. I sent one to her family, but if you want, you could take that for the memorial."

Herc was stunned speechless. How the hell had the kid not let that slip in the drift? The area had gotten very quiet, both in surprise among the crew who were used to surly, careless Chuck, and the ones who were too moved to make a sound. The oldest took the message gravely. "I'll make sure the base commander gets it. He'll probably read it at the memorial. Thanks, Ranger."

_How is it that we've been drifting for years and there are still so many things I don't get about my own son? Dunno why I'm always so surprised when my kid shows sensitivity. There's plenty about him to be proud of beyond just his skills._ It occurred to Herc that he ought to tell Chuck that. But he didn't. After all, Chuck would see it in the drift.

In Sydney, they dutifully attended the memorials on the edge of the Shatterdome grounds and made rehearsed statements honoring the heroism and sacrifice of their fellow Rangers and crews, and all the first responders who'd died since the war began. It was gratifying to see so many people turn out just for the purpose of thanking the Jaeger Program – although they still had to contend with protestors and pundits sneering that this was just another sign that the PPDC was circling the drain.

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** _ _On Leap Day 2024, the world remembers and mourns the friends and family they've lost. A risky battle move forces Team Striker and Team Vulcan to face some hard possibilities about the war, and another great Jaeger falls to a force no one expects in_ _**Chapter Forty-Five: Apollo's Favor!** _
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Valentina (Tina) Medina: Support chopper pilot, formerly of one of Gipsy Danger's strike troop command choppers. Part of the crew that replaced twelve of Gipsy's support personnel who died in the aftermath of the battle with Hardship. Mexican-American from Corpus Christi, Texas, mid-30s, active duty US Marines. Killed in action along with her crew, Jayesh Pal, and Omeo Plinara, when a media drone struck their chopper.
> 
> Greg Oliver: Herc's comrade and fellow chopper pilot from before K-Day, now a support pilot for Lucky Seven. Like Herc, he joined the Jaeger Program in the wake of Scissure. He lost his parents and his oldest daughter, Karina, in the attack. His son, Danny, was accepted into the Jaeger Academy after four tries despite lower academic scores than Chuck, and is now pilot of Tacit Ronin.
> 
> Daniel (Danny) Oliver/Evelyn (Evie) Nakano: Pilots of Tacit Ronin. Danny, Australian-Polynesian, was Chuck's classmate in school and they frequently clashed prior to entering Jaeger Academy. Evie is Japanese-British. The three found common ground through sexual experimentation and now jokingly call themselves frenemies with benefits.
> 
> Admiral Daichi Yamamoto: Commanding Officer of Tokyo Shatterdome, Japanese Naval officer in his 60s.
> 
> Dr. Ramya Dahari: Head of Striker Eureka's team of Psych Analysts, recruited specially by Caitlin Lightcap and Stacker Pentecost (though Herc and Chuck don't know that.) Late-30s, Malaysian.
> 
> Marshal Blake Ketteridge: Commanding Officer of Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force.
> 
> Bobby Kanda/Ken Gould: Pilots of Mammoth Apostle, early 30s, US National Guardsmen. Bobby is Japanese-American, Ken is African-American. Previously stationed in Los Angeles.
> 
> Hien Nguyen: Strike trooper formerly with Gipsy Danger, National Guard transplant, Vietnamese-American in her early 30s.


	45. Apollo's Favor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Leap Day 2024, the PPDC remembers and mourns the friends and family they've lost. A risky battle move forces Team Striker and Team Vulcan to face some hard possibilities about the war, and another great Jaeger falls to a force no one expects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** _ _My sincere apologies, dear readers, for the long wait for this update! My job went through a slow-motion self-destruction over the past seven weeks. It's been incredibly rough to keep my head above water, but as always, your reviews were a bright spot. On Monday, I start a new job, thank gawd, so I'm finally able to devote some energy to writing and editing again. As a bonus, there is a new chapter of_ _ Tales From The Front Lines _ _also dropping tonight, which fills in some of what Raleigh was up to during his time on the wall - and a look into the past of Stacker Pentecost._
> 
> _**Credits:** _ _"When I See You Again" is by Wiz Khalifa, featuring Charlie Puth._

**Chapter Forty-Five: Apollo's Favor**

_February 29, 2024…  
Anchorage Shatterdome…_

"We've got Rangers bouncing all over the planet today," Devi mused in front of the TV. Pete Lepp and Hedy Keres were in Japan, attending the memorial for their classmates, the Tunaris and the Shindos. The pair looked heartsick, standing there alone for the cameras between photos of Team Tidal Dragon and Team Coyote Tango. "Class 2016-A really got the worst luck, didn't they?"

"I don't think there's a class that hasn't lost a few pilots at this point," said Kennedy. Everyone from Class 2016-B who could get leave from their various bases had gathered in Anchorage. It was the biggest reunion since Yancy's funeral. From time to time, the four pilots, Stephanie, Kennedy, Devi, and Susanti, wandered off by themselves. "And a few crew. Hell, we only lost one pilot. How'd that even happen?"

Devi exchanged a _look_ with her sister. Suze was the one who made the decision to tell Steffie and Kennedy. "We've seen him."

Stephanie caught her breath. "Rals?"

They nodded. "When? Where?" Kennedy demanded.

"About eighteen months ago, after Coyote went down." Suze sighed and rubbed her eyes. "We knew we shouldn't do it, send an investigator out after him like he's some kind of fugitive, it just…after Vic and Gunnar died and not getting to see him at Yancy's funeral…we had to know. We found him."

"Was he…okay?" Stephanie whispered.

Both Hassans shrugged. "For a given value of 'okay,' I guess. He was working, construction type stuff. Seemed healthy. But…damn, we shouldn't have done it. We must've torn all the scars right open. He was sweet, but… just a shadow."

Devi felt her sister pull that much closer, both physically and in the ghost drift that all but permanently linked their minds now. Kennedy and Steffie were right up against each other's sides. They'd all been drifting for more or less the same amount of time. Hell, even their first combat deployments had been only months apart.

Kennedy was the one who finally got up the nerve to say it. "You think the press is right? That this is the end, and it's only a matter of time 'till the rest of us go down?"

After an embarrassingly long silence, Suze shrugged. "Dunno. I bet we all ask ourselves that. But given the choice…even if there was an honorable way to bail now…" She shook her head. "I'd do what Lightcap and D'onofrio did: stay in, come back in. The kaiju aren't going away, and that bloody Wall isn't going to stop them. Sooner or later it'll be too obvious to deny."

"Yeah. It just remains to be seen whether any of us'll be there to see it."

* * *

They all broke protocol to leave base and attend a memorial at the Port Alaska docks, where the families and crew of the fishing boat the Beckets had saved gathered to unveil a small monument they'd paid for and designed themselves. Devi and Suze scanned the crowd constantly, hoping that maybe, just maybe, Raleigh might turn up. They saw many of their former classmates doing the same.

There was no sign of him.

Back at base for the official event, they read out the names and titles of every man and woman they'd lost from their class, and tried not to look too long at any of the pictures. All the names and images of Rangers, crews, and strike troopers alike were broadcast in a montage by some of the news outlets, set to music.

_It's been a long day, without you, my friend,_  
And I'll tell you all about it when I see you again,  
We've come a long way, from where we began,  
And I'll tell you all about it when I see you again.

_When I see you again…_

That night, Class 2016-B gathered in one of the empty Shatterdome bays – the one that Gipsy Danger had once inhabited. They passed around bottles of contraband alcohol until most of them had loosened up enough to cry, and told stories about Yancy, about Antwan Ferrier, Nikki Harris, Valentina Medina, Brandon Pines, and everyone else they'd lost.

They were only half-joking when they all swore blood oaths to "butcher the living shit out of every last kaiju who shows its ugly face" for as long as they lived, so help them all God.

The religious crowd shared prayers for the souls and peace of everyone who'd died in the fighting, and the non-religious crowd drank toasts to their lives. In the end, Tendo claimed the floor, bottle in hand. "To Raleigh. Wherever you are, kiddo, whatever you're doing, peace be with you. We miss you, we love you, and that'll never change. We'll always be here for you."

"Amen."

"To Rals."

Then Tendo turned and raised his bottle to Devi and Suze and Kennedy and Stephanie. "To Team Vulcan and Team Hydra. We've all sworn to lay down our lives for our pilots, but whatever team we serve, you've got a special place in our hearts. Never forget that. God be with you in the next event, and every one after that. We're all united with one love of humankind. Class 2016-B will always be united by love of our Rangers."

* * *

_Spring 2024..._

The Southern and Eastern Hemispheres were very busy for the next few engagements. Savage emerged from the Breach in March, and nearly fell to Hydra Corinthian and Amazon Delta in French Polynesia. Then he bolted and went off the grid for nearly two days. He reappeared in the Sea of Japan, causing a mad scramble for Hong Kong, Nagasaki, and Tokyo, but Nova Hyperion managed to get in front of him off Busan with Tacit Ronin bringing up the rear to keep him from running again. That time, they took him down.

Nova joined the back-to-back club only seventeen days later (the shortest time ever between engagements) in early April by engaging Zernobog and driving him away from Sendai with the help of Shaolin Rogue. Cherno Alpha made the kill in a blinding storm along the Siberian Wall the following day.

Kurat, a Category IV, went southwest. Striker, Shaolin Rogue, and Mammoth Apostle made their stand in Jayapura, while Vulcan, Hydra Corinthian, and Ronin deployed in Brisbane. So when Kurat dodged between the Solomons and went for Cairns, the Hassans and their team were closest. Herc and Chuck's trio did relocate, but by the time they got to Cairns, they were pleased to see the situation well in hand (if disappointed not to get a few shots in.)

Chuck tried not to let it irk him too much that Team Ronin had now racked up _six_ kills while he had only four.

But in June, Striker and Vulcan wound up together in Honolulu with Hydra Corinthian waiting for Himantura to make a move. She was a nasty, bulky thing, top-heavy as hell, but flipped Striker into the air when hitting head on. In the process, Chuck and Herc spied the seam in her armor plates directly down the back, and concluded - correctly - that the spinal cord that gave the kaiju such uncanny flexibility had to be close to the surface.

Ignoring Devi and Susanti's shouts to stay in position, they jammed their sling blades into Himantura's side and went climbing, trying to get just high enough to aim the chest array. Himantura bucked and nearly sent them flying, but Vulcan and Hydra rushed in and kept her attention on them

"Just keep this bitch steady for another second," Herc yelled.

"Arming chest array!" They reached the ridge of the back plates and hacked into them; they were thick, but not so thick that the K-Stunners wouldn't penetrate, especially at point-blank range. "Firing missiles!"

The first six nearly blinded them with flashes and smoke, but Himantura _convulsed,_ and Herc roared, "Empty the clip!"

" _Striker, watch the back legs!_ " warned Kennedy.

Like a rabbit, Himantura tried to scratch them off, but they managed to deflect her and fired the next twelve rounds in rapid succession. As the kaiju pitched to the side, they jumped clear and slammed painfully off-balance into the shallow water.

They spun around, ready to be back on the defensive, but the hulk of Himantura was was twitching haplessly where they'd left her. The Hassans were almost casual about shoving a fist into her jaws and unloading a tankful of lava down her throat to finish her off.

Chuck was gleeful at the success of the maneuver, as was Herc...until they returned to shore and found that Devi and Suze were...not so much. The sisters fixed them with matching scowls outside the infirmary showers. "What the hell was that?!"

Chuck blinked, miffed. "That was a kill gambit that worked. What's the problem?"

"The _problem_ was that we were in command of this mission, _we_ were giving orders, and you bloody ignored them!" Devi hissed. "We were lining up a shot by Hydra - if Kennedy and Steffie'd been less on the ball, they'd have fired their pulse and hit you along with the bogey!"

_...oh._ Now they (well, mostly Herc) cringed. They'd been so wrapped up in taking their shot that they hadn't been paying attention to the mission commanders - and since Honolulu was under the jurisdiction of Los Angeles, that was Team Vulcan, the senior Jaeger. Hell, Chuck and Herc were always smug knowing how it must get Ketteridge's goat to see the Hassans running the show.

"We, yeah, okay, we slipped up, but we saw the spinal ridge and -"

"Yeah, we know what you saw," Suze said. "We're all just lucky that little showboat maneuver worked, or else you might have got yourselves killed. Or maybe half the population of Honolulu killed if she'd run over Hydra and us!"

"It _wasn't_ showboating!" Chuck chorused with Herc, who annoyingly went on to say, "And it wasn't just Chuck, I should've remembered too." Chuck glared at his old man. Maybe it was small concession not to throw Chuck under the bus, but way to make it sound like Chuck wasn't an equal decision-maker. Worse, Herc was conceding the whole thing, _and_ making suggestions on what to do about it. "You want a reprimand for disobeying orders, that's up to you."

The way Devi and Suze looked at each other made Chuck's stomach twist, and their silent deliberation seemed to last forever. At length, Devi crossed her arms and stepped back. "No. You didn't do it on purpose, so fine. _This_ time. Just get through your head that it's not a competition out there." That part she directed entirely at Chuck. "People are _dead._ They're going to keep dying, and it's our job to prevent it every chance we can, and that means _not_ taking stupid risks just to get a notch in your belt or pull off a crazy maneuver, do you understand me?"

"Hey, he wasn't the only - "

"Shut. Up. Hercules." Devi didn't take her eyes off Chuck.

All Chuck could do was mumble, "Yes, ma'am. Won't happen again."

Devi and Susanti stalked off to the women's locker room without another word.

* * *

Of course, Kennedy and Stephanie had eavesdropped, despite acceding to Devi and Suze's request (okay, order) to let them have a talk with the Hansens alone. They found their younger classmates right inside the door, just aside of where anyone who glanced through would've seen them, watching with wide eyes. They all showered in silence, Devi and Suze hanging onto their _extremely_ bad mood.

Getting dressed, Kennedy said, "So…can I suggest without getting demerited that _maybe_ you overreacted a tad?"

And it broke like a sheet of ice over a rushing river. Devi and Suze leaned against the lockers, making some really weird noise that was a cross between laughter and...something else. "Fuck," muttered Suze. "You really think so?"

"Not..." Steffie tilted her head as she considered the day's events. "Not the principle of it. They absolutely should've been letting you call the shots, or at least said _something_ before taking it into their heads to pull a Legolas on a kaiju. But if I had to name the most common fuckup out of every team engagement we've ever watched?" She wrinkled her nose. "Yeah. Everybody gets wrapped up in the moment. We see the opening, we go. Letting it pass by can be worse sometimes."

Surprisingly, it was Devi who tried to argue. "Herc's one of the most experienced pilots out there, one of the top team performers. He should know better!"

"But it was Chuck you chewed out," said Kennedy.

Devi and Suze exchanged a long, reluctant glance. _No way would Chuck have managed that if Herc wasn't down with it a hundred percent, but we did freak out thinking of Chuck._ They'd chosen not to reprimand them only because there was the smallest chance that maybe their emotions were getting the better of them. _So we were right...mostly._

On the television, Jaeger enthusiasts were gushing over Striker's wild ride. It had brought about an abrupt end to a kaiju that had shown every sign of being a stayer. Yes, it'd been unorthodox and too risky from Devi and Suze's perspective, and Herc and Chuck had deserved a sharp word for not paying attention to what their partners were doing. But...well...if Kennedy and Steffie were right...what did that mean if Devi and Susanti Hassan couldn't be impartial superiors?

By the time Devi and Suze had decided where to go from there, Herc and Chuck had already finished their medical exam and fled the infirmary. Team Striker's crew were giving the Hassans wary looks, aware that _something_ had gone down, but Devi and Susanti doubted Herc or Chuck had talked. Too embarrassing.

They mumbled their way through their own exam, sparing a little relief for the fact that all six pilots had come out with nothing more than a few bruises and pulled muscles, and made their own escape.

Despite it being only hours since combat drift, Herc and Chuck had separated. Herc was in temporary LOCCENT. Pearl Harbor-Hickam Joint Base was inhabited by Jaegers during alerts so often that the cluster of warehouses and hangars on its grounds had been nicknamed the Shatterhouse.

When the Hassans walked in, everyone looked back and forth between them and Herc and pretended not to be paying attention. So Suze jerked her head at him toward the door. Herc, unlike his kid, had a good poker face, and didn't betray anything at all being amiss.

"Where's Chuck?"

"On a run with Max. You want him too?"

Maybe talking to them separately would be better. Suze took the bull by the horns. "You think maybe we shouldn't deploy together after all?"

Now outside, away from (most) prying eyes, Herc dropped his professional detachment and looked more stricken than either of them expected. "Look, the kid and me fucked up, we admit it. But it wasn't because we don't respect your authority, whatever Ketteridge and his ilk have done."

Devi laughed bitterly. "Relax, Herc, that's not the reason. We overreacted, and not because you weren't 'respecting' anything."

"We did deserve what you said - "

" - not all of it. Not for doing what bloody nearly every pilot does in the heat of a fight at one time or another. Any other team, we'd have been annoyed, had a word. We were livid because it was you two."

Herc frowned, puzzled now, but started and looked down the narrow beach. "Wait. Chuck's coming back."

True to his word, the kid jogged up with Max at his heels. His expression was some combination of wariness, distress, and hurt. It tugged at both sisters' hearts. He'd picked the whole thing up from the ghost drift and as rattled as the earlier confrontation had made him, he charged right in. "You saying you have a different standard for my dad and me?"

Devi snorted. "No. Not like you're thinking. We're saying everything's harder with you, because losing you's a possibility we can't even bloody deal with." _There, I said it._

Chuck stared. After a long silence, he said, "You really think it'll be any easier if we're not a team? I still deploy. And there's no team I trust more than you."

"Kid speaks for me," Herc said quietly. "And not to question your judgment, commanders," now all of them snorted, "but you don't think all these memorials and the bloody Wall-humpers' propaganda haven't got us all a bit fatalist lately?"

Was he right? Was it just carryover from grieving for the Beckets and Tunaris and their other friends and fellow pilots all over again in February? Chuck cracked a smile. "They tell us not to pay attention to the assholes with agendas, but it does get to you, seeing them with their signs and their speeches saying the world is doomed and we're the ones who didn't save it. You've got seven kills, even more deployments. Best Jaeger on Earth. We've all had some close calls, but we're still standing. Lot of us are still standing."

Suze raised mock-skeptical eyebrows at the kid. "When the hell did you become the voice of reason, boyo?"

Chuck grinned. "I'm the youngest pilot, all full of optimism and sunshine, haven't you heard?"

They all guffawed. Devi attempted to knuckle his head, but he dodged her with yells of denial.

Four months later, she and Suze wished they'd given into their impulse to hug him.

* * *

_July 5, 2024…  
San Nicholas Island, California…_

Striker joined the back-to-back club in July on a team with Brawler Yukon and Yankee Star against Insurrector off the shores of Los Angeles. Chuck and Herc did keep in the back of their mind the admonition against showboating. Seven hours in, between the three Jaegers, they were making damn good progress wearing the Category IV down without any major hits.

Until Yankee ran into trouble that was entirely internal. Caleb Mitchell, her left hemisphere, started seizing. She stumbled off balance, out of alignment, and Insurrector went for her.

_"FUCK, I'm losing Caleb!"_ Tanisha Davis yelled, sounding agonized. " _I - shit - can't - "_ The kaiju tore into Yankee's torso and shoved her into the shallows up against the rocks. She fired all her weapons, but the laser went wide, and despite his considerable wounds, Insurrector came back for more.

_"Striker, Brawler, get that bogey away from Yankee!"_ LOCCENT shouted.

Herc and Chuck simply threw themselves onto the bastard and shoved with all their might. Soon Brawler was at their side, and both Jaegers took dents and scratches, but they got themselves between the kaiju and its prey.

_"Yankee Star, respond! Davis, Mitchell, come on, give me something!"_

Herc and Chuck focused their energies on making sure Insurrector wouldn't live long enough for another pass at their wounded partner, but both gasped in relief when Yankee responded.

" _This...Mitchell...'m here. Some kind of..."_

_"Okay, okay. Davis, Mitchell, this is Jefferson,"_ said Yankee's support chief from LOCCENT. " _You've got major reactor and hydraulics damage from those claws. I want you to power down, you hear me?"_

_"Power down?"_ Tanisha didn't sound much better than Caleb. Chuck felt Herc's mind dart to Onibaba, recalling when Tamsin had seized. What did that do to someone who was drifting with them? " _The kaiju..."_

_"_ Let us handle him, Davis, you two need to get out of there," said Herc. "He's lost more limbs than he's got left already; we've got this."

" _Listen to him, Yankee. We can replace the mech, we can't replace you. We'll take it from here,"_ added Caitlin.

"Pin his ass down for us, Brawler," said Chuck. _Let's see how you like getting your guts ripped open while you're down, fucker!_

As they wrangled the kaiju into position for the last twelve K-Stunners straight into his vitals, they heard Marshal Ramirez and Los Angeles LOCCENT talking Mitchell and Davis through power-down. It succeeded, but not soon enough.

" _We're bringing in nuclear containment teams. We need to evacuate the pilots and establish an exclusion zone."_

" _Is it safe for them to eject?"_ demanded Caitlin.

" _It won't get them outside the exclusion zone, and the escape pods don't shield from radiation for long._ "

Herc and Chuck stood up, throat-stomping the bastard kaiju for good measure. "They won't need long. LOCCENT, confirm no signature?"

" _Confirmed, Rangers, kaiju declared destroyed at 2324 hours._ "

"Okay." Herc and Chuck scrambled over the rocks back to Yankee Star's side. Insurrector had barely missed the face of the conn-pod, but he'd warped and bent the metal where the pod joined the torso. Coolant and hydraulic fluid were still spreading across the sand like dark blood. "I don't think we can get the conn-pod free fast enough. LOCCENT, we want to get them into a position to eject, then we'll evacuate the escape pods ourselves."

_"That's a go, Striker. Move northeast at best speed. Brawler, get out of there now, you've got less external shielding. Caleb, Tanisha, you get that?"_

" _Yeah...get ready to catch,"_ Caleb said weakly.

They maneuvered behind the Mark-2's head and noted the position of the emergency hatches. "Go!"

" _Ejecting in 5...4...3...2...1..."_

Ejected in open air, the pods wouldn't accelerate much, but there wasn't any point in taking chances with pilots already injured. It was easier to catch them than expected. Herc and Chuck pulled back with an escape pod cradled in each hand, braced their helpless passengers against their chest, and ran like hell.

_"_ LOCCENT, we can't submerge with the pods in hand. Our lift gear's intact."

_"Stand by, Striker, lift choppers are five minutes away!_ _Brawler, lift choppers will pick you up 800 meters_ _to the southeast._ "

_"Got it."_

_"Tani?_ " From the drivesuit comm, they could hear Caleb mumbling. " _Tani...where..._ "

"She's okay, mate," said Chuck, trying not to jostle Caleb's pod. "You hear me? We've got you both, Tanisha's okay."

" _I'm here,_ " Tanisha confirmed. She sounded a little more alert now that the neural handshake was deactivated. " _What about Yankee?"_

_"She's banged up, leaking coolant, but radiation levels are steady. We'll get crews in there and see if she can be salvaged._ "

A groggy laugh came from Caleb's comm. " _Big question's whether I can be salvaged, huh?_ "

Herc was relieved, but Chuck was anxious. _They hadn't taken any bad hits when he seized. What the hell could've caused it?_

_Nothing good,_ his dad confirmed.

The two rescued pilots kept forced good spirits through the lift back to LA, christening it the Worst Skyride Ever, but Chuck's question was the same one on everyone else's mind. Caitlin Lightcap said grimly, "Even on hundred percent compatible teams, that's an intense neural load. If one is in less than peak condition, their nervous system can be overwhelmed."

"Couldn't it be caused by something with the mech?" asked one of Yankee's crew, wringing her hands as Caleb and Tanisha went through the scanners.

"It's always possible." Caitlin didn't sound convinced.

Herc and Chuck didn't get to stay to find out in person whether the problem was caused by Yankee's damage or not, because Ketteridge wanted them back in Sydney, as usual. They did get to stay long enough to put Insurrector's kill stamp on the six pilots' jackets. Worry for Tanisha and Caleb was eased a bit by pride that despite the disaster, they'd gotten two acclaimed pilots back safely.

"Yankee's not in meltdown, but J-Tech is pretty sure she won't be salvageable," sighed Tendo as they packed up Striker's equipment. "That fucker's claws went deep and leaked corrosive material all over the internal systems _before_ they had to drown the reactor in seawater to cool it off."

Even if Yankee Star had been salvageable, it wouldn't have mattered. The news rippled through the Corps a few days after Team Striker got back to Sydney: Caleb Mitchell had been diagnosed with cancer.

"How the fuck did the medics not catch it?!" Tendo exploded.

"They _did_ catch it," said Sydney's chief medic defensively. "Marshal Ramirez and the American medics were scrupulous about screening, especially for the Mark-1 and Mark-2 pilots, because they're all high risk. There's a starting point for everything, and Mitchell was clear when they were tested last month. Now he isn't. It's not anyone's fault!"

The media and the American public disagreed. With Yankee Star destroyed and her pilots permanently grounded, the call got even louder for at least one of the American Shatterdomes to close. Marshal Ramirez was removed as commanding officer of Los Angeles. Her replacement was an American general who, according to the Dome staff, was not at all in favor of continuing the Jaeger Program.

Mammoth Apostle returned to Los Angeles to back up Romeo Blue, leaving just Vulcan and Striker in Sydney.

* * *

_Sydney Shatterdome…  
August 2024…_

As the summer wound to a close, Breach events came two or three weeks apart. Striker Eureka became the inaugural member of the three-fer club with three engagements back-to-back by taking down Bonesquid off Port Moresby.

Vulcan paired back up with Crimson Typhoon against Biantal in August, near Taipei, and Tacit Ronin racked up his seventh kill along with Chrome Brutus against Hound. Striker got in some good hits on that deployment, but even Chuck couldn't deny that it ended up being Chrome and Ronin's kill after Hound sent Striker flying off a cliff. They were lucky to come out of that one with as little damage as they did.

Still, the fight took place on Chuck's twenty-first birthday, and a wild party followed at Sydney Shatterdome, which all six Rangers were hale and healthy enough to join in.

New Zealand hosted back-to-back attention from kaiju in August, with Hound targeting Aukland followed by Taranais attacking Queen Charlotte Sound only sixteen days later. Much to Chuck's annoyance, Striker had to sit that one out while repairs were being finished from the Hound engagement, and Tacit Ronin went out again. But it ended up being Cherno Alpha who made the kill and got the laurels.

The Jaeger Program might have been embattled, but Chuck and Herc were happy about their own record and that of their fellows. It seemed to them that fewer protestors and more supporters were showing up around Sydney Shatterdome after the successful defense of New Zealand.

So when Rachnid took aim at Brisbane, they figured this was just another opportunity to remind the world and their countrymen of just how much value there was to having Jaegers around.

They were wrong.

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** _ _Defending their own country alongside the teammates they trust the most, Herc and Chuck face the catastrophe that neither one ever wanted to believe possible in **Chapter Forty-Six: Penthesilea!**_
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> Marshal Blake Ketteridge: Commanding Officer of Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force.
> 
> Devi/Susanti Hassan: Rangers of Vulcan Specter, Australia's Mark-3 Jaeger. Sisters, ages 31 and 29, first-generation daughters of Indonesian immigrants to Australia who graduated Jaeger Academy's Class 2016-B along with the Beckets, Kennedy LaRue, and Stephanie Lanphier.
> 
> Peter Lepp and Hedy Keres: Rangers of Eden Assassin, Russia's Mark-2. Estonian Air Force pilots who met after K-Day when the PPDC was formed. They were part of the first "open admission" class of the Jaeger Academy in early 2016, and fell in love during training and later married. They are now the last surviving pilots who graduated Class 2016-A, as the Tunari brothers and previously the Shindo siblings (pilots of Japan's Mark-2, Tidal Dragon, which suffered catastrophic radiation damage in 2018) have now died.
> 
> Tanisha Davis/Caleb Mitchell: Rangers of Yankee Star, America's Mark-2 Jaeger. Former US Marines in their 30s. Tanisha is African-American from Los Angeles, Caleb is from rural Oklahoma.
> 
> Marshal Ana Ramirez: Commanding Officer of Los Angeles Shatterdome, mid-40s, Mexican-American former US Army officer.


	46. Penthesilea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Defending their own country alongside the teammates they trust the most, Herc and Chuck face the catastrophe that neither one ever wanted to believe possible, and from a distance, Raleigh can only watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** This chapter ties into the most recent chapter of  Tales From The Front Lines, which tells the story of Raleigh's time on the wall and of other young men like him under the secret eyes of a protector enlisted by Stacker Pentecost._

**Chapter Forty-Six: Penthesilea**

_September 25, 2024…  
Brisbane, Australia…_

Rachnid, Category IV, bore more than a passing resemblance to Rakshasa, the monster that had destroyed three Jaegers on that fateful May Day a year earlier. He had a long, scorpion body with a thick, barbed tail, and six legs, and no less than four massive pincer-claws.

Stormy conditions hampered deployment and slowed down the arrival of the back-up teams. So for the first six hours, Striker and Vulcan would be going it alone. This was the first time Chuck or Herc had felt any trepidation about taking on a kaiju when they had a partner, let alone when that partner was Vulcan.

_"_ _He's one of the biggest Category IV we've ever had, and those claws have Tactics in a panic. We're calling in four more mechs,"_ Tendo told them. _"Do not fuck around with this guy._ "

"You don't have to tell us twice," said Herc. "What's his ETA?"

" _Ninety minutes. Shaolin Rogue is making best possible speed, ETA seven hours. Mammoth Apostle was already on his way, ETA five hours._ "

Chuck smirked as Herc got ahead of Ketteridge on the mission planning. "Vulcan, you're senior, then. You've got mission command. Where're we dropping?"

_"_ _North Stradbroke Island, Point Lookout,_ " said Devi. " _Outside the Wall._ "

"Not interested in seeing how the Wall holds up?" Chuck asked dryly.

Suze snorted. "That _is not a bet we're going to make outside our hometown, thank you very much, especially not against this bastard._ "

"I thought arachnids were spiders," he remarked as they moved into position.

" _So are scorpions. K-Science got the naming rights for this one; lots of biology nerds_."

Rachnid didn't bother with trying to dodge the Jaegers or alter his approach, but rose out of the ocean directly in front of Vulcan and Striker like a movie monster to make the challenge.

_"Rangers, this is Marshal Blake Ketteridge; your orders are to defend the Wall by any means necessary._ "

" _Copy that, Marshal,_ " said Devi, though Chuck and Herc would've bet good money that she and Suze were thinking the same thing as the Hansens: _No shit, Sherlock!_

_Thought we were supposed to be defending a city,_ Chuck thought sourly.

_Yeah, well._ Herc rolled his eyes. _Defend the Wall and the city's safe._ "Vulcan, we each picking a side?"

_"Negative, Striker, no splitting up on this one. This bastard wants a fight. He won't run from us. We're concentrating on the central trunk directly behind the pincer arms; he'll have a hard time twisting those around. Just watch the tail stinger._ "

"Copy that. No need to chase him. He's coming to us."

_"_ _Here we go, watch those claws!_ "

They met Rachnid head-on, each of them focusing on one pair of lobster claws. However, despite having four arms between them, that still left the bastard's teeth to deal with. Herc and Chuck ducked the first snapping bite, muttering curses, and then slammed Herc's side of the conn-pod against Rachnid's jaw when he came in for another.

" _You-didn't-seriously head-butt him!"_ grunted Susanti.

"We need a third arm like Typhoon," Chuck replied, managing to jab his shoulder armor to knock the kaiju's head away again. "Or get rid of some of his!"

"I've got mine – aim below the claw!"

"Deploying sling blade!" Trusting his old man and the Hassans to keep Rachnid's claws and/or jaws off his back, Chuck focused entirely on hacking at the narrowest part of the kaiju's arm.

Metal screamed, and Herc bellowed curses as he lost his grip and Rachnid got a clawhold on one of Striker's angel wings. Snarling with his jaws _way_ too close to their face, the kaiju jerked Herc and Chuck off balance. Chuck lost his hold too, but the claw he'd been chopping at flopped helplessly, spurting Kaiju Blue. But that still left the third claw arm _and_ the kaiju's teeth to tear into Vulcan. The Hassans had to use both hands and one leg just to keep Rachnid at bay.

Herc and Chuck righted themselves, cursing and came up under Rachnid's chin to slam both of their sling blades into his neck. Herc's penetrated the armor, but Chuck's didn't. _Probably blunted the bloody thing – SHIT!_ Attacked from below, Rachnid curled up, roaring, and nearly tangled Striker in his legs and claws. The Hassans rallied and unleashed both of their meteor hammers in a savage volley against his flank. They were so close that Herc and Chuck could hear the sickening cracks of the kaiju's armor with each blow.

They more or less had to roll out from underneath the fucker, dodging those damn claws all the way, but they came up on the other flank. _Well, we weren't planning to split sides, but here we are. Give him the brass knuckles!_ They unleashed their fists, but then it was Rachnid's turn to rally, and he lashed at Vulcan with his barbed tail.

One of the Hassans screamed.

_FUCK!_ They didn't have time to think, just armed their chest missiles and fired six directly into Rachnid's side, trying to draw his attention back to them. "Devi, Suze, you okay?!"

Rachnid crashed sideways away from them, but knocked the Hassans clean off their feet in the process. " _We're hit!_ "

Herc snarled, and they lunged up onto the kaiju's shoulders past the flailing legs to drive their sling blades into the back of his neck. "Fall back! We'll keep him busy!"

Devi coughed and yelled, " _Watch that stinger!_ " Her warning gave Chuck just enough time to get his hand up to stop the barb from nailing them in the face.

"Fucker!" They jumped clear and pulled, then turned their attention to the back end. "How you like this?" The tail was segmented, and once they wedged the blades in between the armor plates, they had the tail severed with a few good saws. "You guys okay?!"

" _Yeah – shit,_ " spat Suze. " _We're good, just took a deep slash to my shoulder – fuck, that hurts._ "

" _Save your K-Stunners,_ " said Devi. " _We're coming back in, stay on the original plan._ "

"Got it."

With Rachnid's tail stinger gone, they could concentrate more on the back end where those damned lobster claws and teeth couldn't reach, but the kaiju knew what they were up to and scrambled to keep them at his front. Herc and Chuck didn't go for the K-Stunners, and the Hassans didn't bother with their lava. It was going to be close-quarters until they could immobilize the bastard long enough for the incendiaries to make a difference.

Chuck's ears rang with blows, and he and Herc collected a vast array of new burns and bruises as their assailant made clear he wasn't going down without one hell of a fight. They hacked a second arm clean off once the Hassans had shattered its armor with Vulcan's meteor hammers. The hours somehow dragged and flew by at the same time, so that when LOCCENT finally announced, " _Mammoth Apostle is touching down four hundred meters to your east! Calibrations complete!_ " Chuck was torn between relief that they finally had back-up and astonishment that so much time had passed.

" _Vulcan, where do you want us?_ "

" _Right flank, Mammoth, help us flip this fucker over!_ " Devi ordered. " _Striker, keep him busy!_ "

"Working – on – it!" Herc grunted, and they switched back to sling blades to hack at the cracked armor of Rachnid's left flank. The kaiju knew its vitals were vulnerable.

Maybe Rachnid panicked when another attacker joined the fray, but even as he swung around to snap his remaining two functional lobster claws at Striker, he lashed what remained of his now-barbless tail at Mammoth and Vulcan.

It caught Vulcan under the right arm with a sickening _crunch,_ and hurled him into the air. " _Jesus!_ " Mammoth charged, and Herc and Chuck rushed around the kaiju's front, but Vulcan landed far too close to Rachnid's claws.

" _LOCCENT, we're - "_ Devi broke off with a scream as Rachnid closed a claw directly around Vulcan's right shoulder and drove him back into the water.

_NO!_ Herc and Chuck forgot all about tactics and just threw themselves at the other arm, pulling as Mammoth pushed, but Rachnid pressed his attack and snapped at Vulcan's chest, tearing chunks of metal off with his teeth. "LOCCENT, WE NEED BACKUP NOW!"

The part of Chuck's mind not a crazed maelstrom of panic latched onto the sounds of Devi and Susanti, yelling and cursing – _that means they're alive, they're still fighting_ \- and caught dizzy, fleeting glimpses of them kicking and clawing at Rachnid to free their right side. Suze finally got the bastard to let go by unloading her lava straight into his face. Rachnid reared back and released Devi's shoulder, and Striker and Mammoth finally managed to haul him away.

"Dev, Suze, fall back! We've got this, fall back!" Herc yelled, and they tore into Rachnid with renewed fury. "You _son of a bitch!_ "

_"_ _Vulcan, your reactor shielding's penetrated!_ "

" _Yeah, we noticed!_ " grunted Devi, and Chuck gasped in relief even as he hacked at the kaiju's trunk. _"Dammit. Right arm's immobile…radiation level…shit._ "

"Dev?! What the hell's going on?" Chuck shouted.

"Suze, lemme hear your voice!" Herc bellowed.

" _Here's my voice, now keep your eyes on the job,"_ Suze retorted.

She was hurt; they could tell. Their hearts hammered, caught up in a blaze of rage and adrenaline, and they hammered Rachnid with no quarter, roaring with every blow.

_"Stay behind him, Striker, we're gonna burn a hole in this fucker!_ " growled Bobby Kanda. Herc and Chuck dropped to a crouch to focus their sling blades on the cracked and shattered flank armor that Devi and Suze had broken with their meteor hammers. The kaiju's agonized screeches as Mammoth Apostle's burners were unleashed were music to the Hansens' ears.

Then Mammoth broke off two more of the kaiju's legs, and Rachnid wasn't going anywhere. All the bastard could do was flail as Herc and Chuck jumped onto his back and severed the rest of the limbs holding those goddamned lobster claws just for good measure. "Roll him over. Let's feed him the rest of our ammo!"

"Dev?" Chuck couldn't resist shouting. "Suze, come on, you okay?" They had to be okay, they had to be. Vulcan was still standing.

" _'s all right, boyo, doing damage reports,"_ Devi grunted.

Herc and Chuck caught a glimpse of Vulcan, bent off-balance, bracing himself on a rock with Susanti's good arm. Chuck snarled at the hapless kaiju. Mammoth pried his head back, exposing the throat and pounded the armor apart there for good measure.

_"Let the bastard have it, Striker!_ "

"Mother _fucker!_ " Emptying the clip was probably unnecessary, but they did it anyway. Six missiles fired at point-blank range, burrowing into Rachnid's neck and chest as the kaiju convulsed and croaked, then six more, followed up by Mammoth's burners straight into the mouth and the wounds, cauterizing the gushing Blue _and_ making the bastard's end as torturous as possible.

" _No signature!_ " announced LOCCENT. " _That's no signature, kaiju declared destroyed at 1715 hours...hey! Guys? Okay, okay, Striker, Mammoth, no signature! GUYS!"_

Blinking sweat from their eyes, panting and growling, Herc and Chuck stopped pummeling the carcass and stumbled back. Ken and Bobby were breathing heavy too, as lost to battle rage as they'd been. But all that remained of the monster was a motionless, charred, disfigured hulk and chunks of severed appendages floating in the water.

If they could have spat on it, they would have as they turned away and hurried back towards Vulcan.

_"Striker, Mammoth, wait, hold! We've got external radiation rising fast!"_

_"Rangers, stop, don't approach!_ "

They honestly were oblivious to the shouted warnings from LOCCENT, but it was Susanti raising Vulcan's left arm and yelling, " _STOP!"_ that finally got through.

Herc and Chuck faltered. _Radiation? Oh, shit. Shit, this is bad._ Chuck could feel Herc's horror, sinking hot and heavy onto his guts. For his own part, Chuck was still trying to process the idea. "How bad is it?" Herc croaked.

There was a long pause. " _...bad,"_ Devi said. " _Reactor's breached. Coolant's failing."_

Adrenaline had begun to drain from Chuck at seeing the kaiju's carcass, but now it roared back with a vengeance. _She means...they're gonna melt down. Oh God..._ "You've gotta eject, then," he said. Somehow his voice stayed steady, completely at odds with his spinning surroundings and the wild churning of his insides. His voice was the only steady thing about him. "Eject... we'll get you, just like with Yankee."

"Yeah, yeah," Herc agreed, and they altered their approach. They'd get behind Vulcan, catch the pods and move away safely. "C'mon, Mammoth, let's move -"

_"_ _\- No! Striker, no!"_ Devi exclaimed. The girls were breathing hard as Vulcan straightened. _"We're too close. Too close to shore, we'll contaminate half of Brisbane._ "

So they'd deal with that, but the priority had to be getting Devi and Suze out of the bloody Jaeger before the reactor went! Chuck was getting pissed, but Herc tugged at him in the drift. _They won't very well accept irradiating their families._ "Okay, let's get you deeper, _fast._ Can you walk? Hell, screw that, LOCCENT, we need lift choppers in here!"

" _Herc..._ " It was Tendo. " _Guys, Vulcan's lift gear's gone, and, the radiation, it's too high."_

Why the hell did he sound so ragged? Wasn't anybody else with it? Chuck growled, and they started towards Vulcan again. "We'll help 'em move, then."

" _Guys, stop_ ," Devi ordered. " _It's too late."_

What? Whatever, it was _not_ too late. Devi and Suze were fine; they were walking and talking! " _Striker Eureka, hold your position!"_ came Ketteridge's voice on the comm.

"Oh, fuck you," Herc retorted, but to their complete disbelief, Devi backed him up.

" _Herc, Chuck, we said STOP, that's an order! You can't do anything for us, and you'll just get yourselves killed! Striker - goddammit, Mammoth, help us out here!_ "

Mammoth snagged Chuck's arm and hauled them back. "What the - get OFF!" Chuck yelled. "Fucking Christ, this is insane! We've gotta get 'em out of there, Mammoth, fucking let go!" They pulled, trying to shake their fellow Jaeger off, but Bobby and Ken weren't letting go, and Herc balled his fist, furious.

" _HERCULES FUCKING HANSEN, WE SAID STAND DOWN!"_ Susanti roared. " _THAT MEANS FUCKING STOP!"_

_What the fuck?!_ "This is mad!" Chuck protested. They were running out of time, damn it, they had to get Devi and Suze out of the Jaeger before the reactor blew!

Devi's voice, more resigned, scared the shit out of him. " _LOCCENT, transmit our conn-pod radiation readings to Striker's HUD. Now._ "

The readout appeared on the screen, but Chuck barely glanced at it. Oh, shit, those levels were high, so they'd need to get the Hassans to hospital pronto. "We don't have much time, then, you can't save Vulcan!" Chuck said desperately. "You've gotta eject! The containment crews can handle it -"

" _Chuck_." It was Indra Hassan. His voice was breaking. " _Chuck...lad, they've - eight -"_

_"C'mon, Indra, keep with the plan,"_ said Suze softly.

What plan? What the fuck were they talking about?!

" _Striker, this is Dr. Tsai. Vulcan's drivesuits are showing radiation absorption of almost eight hundred rads and still rising. I'm... Rangers, I'm so sorry... there's nothing anyone can do now."_

_What?_ Chuck and Herc stopped trying to pull out of Mammoth's grasp, though Mammoth didn't let go of them. A burning sensation was growing under Herc's skin, as if they'd picked up radiation themselves, and pressure in his chest as he understood - Chuck pulled back from his father in the drift. He couldn't understand. He _wouldn't_ understand where LOCCENT and Mammoth and the medics were going with this, because it wasn't possible. It wasn't. Fuck that, fuck them all, they just had to get Devi and Suze back to the Dome and to hospital.

Vulcan half-turned, looking back toward his brother Jaegers. _"Ken, Bobby?"_

_"Yeah?"_ Why did Ken sound all choked up?

" _We're here."_ Bobby too, what the hell was wrong with them all?! " _What can we do?_ "

" _Look after them all, will you? If you stay on in Sydney, I mean._ "

" _We will, guys. We'll stay. We'll have their backs, and give the kaiju hell for ya. We promise."_

What the fuck was going on?! In the drift, Herc was just...breaking, and Chuck didn't understand, _why, why_ was everyone like this, why wouldn't Devi and Suze turn around and let them help?!

Herc's thoughts made no bloody sense either. _He doesn't understand, he's too young for this, fuck it,_ I _don't understand, how in God's name is this happening, this can't be real -_

_WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ON ABOUT, OLD MAN?!_

Herc turned in his rig and _looked_ at Chuck. The handshake was wavering as their minds struggled, because Chuck was trying to pull away and escape...something. Something he just couldn't, _wouldn't_ see... In the drift, they were facing each other, Chuck in confusion and anger and panic, and Herc met his eyes, and the awareness in his mind _slammed_ into Chuck despite every barrier Chuck tried to throw in front of it.

_Dr. Tsai said there's nothing anyone can do. She means that it's...over. Over, even if they eject, even if they let Brisbane burn, they'll be..._

_...no...no...no, Dad, no, no, this is wrong, this is mad, this is bloody impossible, DadDadDad no..._

" _Herc?_ "said Devi. Rough and ragged, she was hurting. They could hear her breathing. She was alive and breathing and talking, so how could it be like Herc was trying to tell him? " _Chuck? You there, boyo?"_

"...Devi?" Chuck breathed. "I don't...understand." Why was his own voice breaking now too? Why was it like this?

" _We've,"_ Susanti broke off and took a shaky breath. She hurt, they were both hurt. " _We've got a little time. Should be enough, you know, to get out of range. We'll take Vulcan off the shelf, deep as we can. Keep the radiation offshore."_

"Then eject, right?" Chuck blurted. They'd only had seven hours' drift in this engagement, why was everything off-balance and blurred like this? He was reaching - Mammoth still had their shoulder, but with their left hand, they reached towards Devi and Suze. "We'll come get you, right?" They had to go get them. Because this just couldn't be happening.

" _Chuck,"_ Devi said. " _My lad, love..."_

_"We're Rangers, boyo,"_ said Suze. " _C'mon, we all knew this might happen."_

"No." For the first time, he whispered it out loud. "No, you can't."

Suze - did she laugh? Why would she laugh? " _Shit. We even had a plan. Knew we should've gone over it with you, just...didn't want you to have to think about that._ "

" _Sorry..._ " LOCCENT broke in. It was Tendo. " _Vulcan - sorry, your coolant is gone. He's heating up fast. You don't have a lot of time."_

Vulcan raised a hand back toward Herc and Chuck, but didn't make a move toward coming closer, coming _back,_ why weren't they coming back? " _Chuck, Herc, listen. Listen,"_ Susanti insisted. She coughed and said, " _You promise us, okay? When it's...over, when it's done, you don't go blaming anyone. Not each other, not Mammoth, not anyone else. It happens, okay? Shit happens, we all know that, we've seen it. Promise, promise you won't."_

"I..." _But...why?_

" _Hercules,_ " said Devi. " _You take care of him. Especially after today. Chuck, my boyo, you stick with your dad, you understand me? Promise you won't lose heart. Charles Hansen, you made it all so bloody worth it, having you here, seeing you grow up. I love you both so much. You promise us, you'll never forget that, no matter how bad things get."_

"Promise, Dev," Herc said. He breathed deep and hard, fighting with all his strength to keep control, but his eyes burned and his chest was being compressed in a vise, and crushing Chuck through the drift. "I - we promise."

_"You're...Herc, you're the best friend, best man in the Corps. Don't you regret anything. I don't,"_ Devi said roughly. " _Chuck? Can you talk to me, love?"_

It was breaking him. He'd sworn nothing would ever break him, but this... this...should've been impossible. "What...do I do?"

_"Just promise. Stick with your dad. Tendo and Indra, the crews. Max. We'll always be part of that._ "

He had to say it, had to promise, they needed to hear him say he promised, but how...why? _Dad, Dad, I dunno how..._ Herc pulled close to him in the drift, even as the rig kept them apart and they tried to come to terms with the impossible. His father helped him, helped him breathe, helped him find his voice and try, at least try to keep it steady enough to talk. "Promise," he choked out. "I promise. Devi, Suze...promise."

_"We love you, boyo,"_ said Suze. " _Herc. We know you'll keep it going. Bye._ "

_What? What...no, not bye, not that..._

But Vulcan turned away and walked into the ocean.

* * *

_Sydney Shatterdome..._

Tendo's hands were shaking, his vision kept blurring, his throat closing, and his breathing so rough that he thought he might drop. He beckoned at Mammoth's LOCCENT crew. "Spot me, will you? Spot my commands," he gestured at Indra. "Him too."

Indra was worse, trying to monitor and assist Vulcan through all the damage as his cousins walked to their deaths...their _deaths_...Devi and Susanti Hassan...Tendo's friends and Indra's cousins, their classmates, teammates...that goddamned traitorous readout from the drivesuits showed a number, that horrific number of rads that kept on rising. Goddamn it all to hell, it had already killed them, it had already shattered so many lives. Its work was done, so why was it still rising, still hurting them even as they walked?

The Geiger counter didn't care. The radiation didn't care. Maybe God didn't care.

Indra refused to relinquish his position in front of Vulcan's LOCCENT screens. "I promised," he muttered. Tendo could see how hard he was shaking. Indra let one of Shaolin Rogue's LOCCENT crew back him, spot him as he worked in case his hand slipped entering a command or making a calculation, but he wouldn't leave his post now. "We had a plan. Girls?" His breath caught and someone in LOCCENT sobbed, but Tendo didn't dare turn around, and neither did Indra. "What're you - at depth, when you're down th'slope, Brisbane'll be clear, but y'won't..." He coughed and went on, "Left side ejection sys-tem, too damaged. May not work."

There was a long silence, making adrenaline start to buzz in Tendo's skin again, but all he could see was that Vulcan Specter was still moving. Devi and Suze were still walking. " _We're not gonna eject,"_ said Suze.

More breaths caught, but Devi's voice had steadied again. " _Left hemisphere pod system's compromised. Suze can't eject. I'm not going. Wouldn't make any difference anyway, we know that."_

" _Hey...J-Tech,"_ said Suze. " _You said flooding the reactor won't stop the meltdown, but what about...what about, when we're at depth, self-destruct?_ "

" _What?! No, no, you can't!_ " Chuck cried.

" _Hush, boyo,"_ said Devi. " _We're working here._ "

The noise that came over Striker's comm, like the whine of a puppy, broke Tendo, and he had to wipe furiously at his eyes to see the monitors. Indra bent over in his seat as the engineers ran the numbers. More cold, ugly, godforsaken numbers.

Vulcan's chief engineer, a big, burly surfer dude who looked like Chris Hemsworth, looked at the calculation and broke down sobbing without making a sound. So Kyrra Taior stepped from Striker's station to Vulcan's and took over the comm. "Self-destruct is still a nuclear blast, Vulcan. But..." Her voice was level, though she had to stop and take a breath. "It'll contain the radiation closer, if you're off the continental shelf, and the deep currents'll take it out to sea."

Vulcan kept walking, and Susanti asked, " _That you, Kyrra?_ "

"Yeah."

Tendo kept a tight grip on the edge of his chair. What Susanti whispered next, he couldn't translate. It was undoubtedly an Aboriginal dialect, probably from Kyrra's ancestors. Kyrra and her mom only spoke English, but like a lot of the other Aboriginal Aussies, she'd made it her hobby to learn the language that had been forcibly taken from her family's past. She and Suze must have worked on it together.

So although he didn't know what language it was, couldn't begin to translate the words, Tendo knew all too well what Susanti had to be saying, and wished he couldn't see Kyrra's flinch as she held the mic. But Kyrra answered in the same language, eyes on the blip on the screen that was Vulcan, moving steadily towards the edge of the continental shelf.

" _How much time have we got until meltdown?"_ Suze asked, switching back to English.

Vulcan's chief engineer pulled himself together and reclaimed the comm. "Inside an hour. You're making good time to reach depth ahead of it, 'f you keep moving."

_"Got it. Hey...Indra?"_

"Yeah."

" _I know this isn't strictly protocol, but...what about putting us through to home? Can you get a comm link to Mum and Dad's emergency phone?_ "

Indra caught his breath, then his hands flew across the console, as he pulled out his phone. "Hang on. We're on it."

One of Striker's support crew hurriedly whispered the instructions to patch the call through. In the corner of Tendo's eye, Marshal Ketteridge frowned and started to step forward - but Tendo stood up, along with several other crew. Everyone just...looked at Ketteridge.

_As God is my witness, if you say_ anything... _I will beat you into the floor right here and take the court martial,_ Tendo vowed silently.

But Ketteridge saw the writing on the wall and the warning in the crew's eyes. He wisely kept his mouth shut as Indra Hassan opened the communication line that would shatter his family forever.

* * *

_Coastal Wall Project...  
Okinawa, Japan..._

The second shift was ending, and a crowd gathered around the television watching the reports of the kaiju attack on Brisbane. Paul Terrence counted the heads of his crew, and caught up with that task, he hadn't paid much attention to the fight on television. It wasn't until he was finished that he noticed how very grim the workers' faces had become.

Raleigh Becket always got a little more attention when there was a Breach alert in progress, but something was different today. When he joined the crowd around the TV screens, nearly all of the workmen turned and looked at him.

Paul handed his post over to the incoming third shift foreman and went to see for himself.

One of the screens was broadcasting the local Japanese channel, but another was in English. " _We now have confirmation: the kaiju Rachnid is destroyed, but Vulcan Specter, the most successful Jaeger in history, has sustained catastrophic damage. The PPDC press office is saying that Vulcan Specter's reactor has breached, and its pilots, Devi and Susanti Hassan, have been exposed to lethal levels of radiation. You can see... all helicopters have been ordered to maintain a wide distance and high altitude, but you can see from above, this shot from earlier - wow, that's Striker Eureka, the other Australian Jaeger, and Mammoth Apostle from the US actually physically holding the Aussies back to stop them from following. I'm not sure why, Vulcan Specter is moving away from shore into deeper water, maybe to try and stop the meltdown of his reactor."_

"Dear God," someone muttered. "That's the second one we've lost in a month."

At the center of a small gap in the crowd, Raleigh Becket was oblivious to the stares. His eyes were locked on the screen as the blood drained from his face.

On the US channel, the American reporter listened to something on his bluetooth, and his face fell. Paul braced himself. " _Wow, this is... a terrible situation is unfolding in the Coral Sea off Brisbane. The kaiju is dead, but the pilots of Vulcan Specter are reportedly going to walk the Jaeger off the continental shelf into the deep ocean in order to end the meltdown. The PPDC's press office is saying that Devi and Susanti Hassan cannot be rescued. They've already suffered fatal radiation poisoning, and their last act is going to be ditching their Jaeger in the deep ocean to protect their hometown from radiation. This is a truly tragic day in Jaeger Program history, Devi and Susanti Hassan hold a record_ nine _kaiju kills and multiple other engagements. They're Brisbane natives, so we've just seen those extraordinary women fight their final battle in defense of the city where they were born and raised. Their family still lives there. A source in the Sydney Shatterdome tells us that the Hassan sisters are in contact with the shore at this moment, saying their farewells to their family and fellow pilots."_

One of the other foremen, Miles Barker, shook his head and sneered. "And another one bites the dust."

Sputters and incoherent growls of outrage were the only real reaction, and several men rounded on him, including Raleigh Becket, as Paul shoved through the crowd. Two of the other boys who had dog tags sometimes visible under their clothes caught Raleigh by the arms.

Paul took control and affected the urban American accent that hid his Londoner roots. "Watch your mouth, Barker, those're soldiers dyin' in the line of duty out there!" An angry mutter of agreement rippled through the crowd, but Raleigh didn't make a sound. He just stared at Miles.

Miles wasn't exactly sorry - the grasping man had no shame - but he had a strong sense of self-preservation, so he shut up. Paul addressed the group. "If you're on duty, get outta here. If y'ain't," he slapped the hard hat off Miles's head. "Show some goddamn respect!"

Miles retrieved his hat and skulked off. _"We can't see Vulcan Specter anymore, and the PPDC will make a formal announcement as soon as the end is confirmed..."_ the reporters droned on.

Raleigh shook off the other men and walked quickly away. His protectors trailed after him, and Paul caught one of them. "Hey, leave the kid alone."

"We won't bother him, man. Just, you know, keepin' an eye on him."

"Okay, then."

The protector, middle-aged with US Navy tattoos, took off his hard hat as he went off to follow Raleigh. The boy came to a stop at the fence facing the sea to the south.

There were other places on the work site where Raleigh might have gotten a modicum of privacy...but he'd chosen to stay where he was still in earshot of the broadcast. Paul sighed.

The reaction of journalists to death in front of their cameras was all too familiar, just as it had been on K-Day when plane after plane exploded in the battle against Trespasser, and pilot after pilot died in fire. Among them had been Paul's son Damon, and Stacker Pentecost's sister Luna, Paul's daughter in all but name. He hadn't known for certain as he watched the broadcasts of the ill-fated battle, but he'd suspected. Stacker had confirmed it on Paul's doorstep after the nuclear bombs fell on California.

Now there could be no doubt of what fate awaited the two women inside the Jaeger. Vulcan Specter vanished beneath the sea, and Striker Eureka stayed in the shallows, still in the grip of Mammoth Apostle's hands. Striker had one hand still vainly outstretched towards his teammate. That was young Chuck Hansen down there, and his father, Hercules. Paul could guess all too well what it had to be doing to them as their friends disappeared.

The images on the televisions cut to scenes of people, who knew where, weeping and praying. However controversial the Jaeger Program had become to spineless bastards like Miles, most of the pilots were still honored, and few more than Devi and Susanti Hassan. They were feminist icons, war heroines, practically superheroes in the eyes of half the world. Invincible until now.

_I wonder what they find to say to their families._ He wondered what Damon and Luna might have had to say if they'd had the time to prepare for the end.

* * *

_Beneath the Coral Sea..._

They hurt. Hanging up from the call home was a guilty relief, because the sobs that punctuated Dad's words and the tears in Mum's voice hurt even worse than the burning throb that was growing in their brains and the nausea and cramps that were taking their bodies. All Devi and Susanti's energy was going toward the act of walking, one foot in front of the other. They were off balance from the damage to their hydraulics. They were in pain from their shredded iron skin and torn steel muscle, salt water penetrating their superstructure and radiation penetrating their flesh.

They were almost there. It was almost over.

Really over.

There was nothing left to do but walk, and then jump. Then end it.

They tried to turn away from the "should-haves" that flooded the drift from both their minds. They'd talked so many times with Indra about the plan, about what they'd do and what he would say if they died in combat. But they should have talked to Herc and Chuck. They'd thought about it...but never got up the courage.

Would Herc and Chuck be okay? Would Indra? Mum and Dad and their uncle, Indra's dad? Kyrra? Tendo, Kennedy, and Steffie? Raleigh, wherever he was?

Visibility dropped, and they switched to instruments. "LOCCENT, what's our distance to the cliff?"

" _Three hundred meters, Vulcan._ " Indra was calming down, thank God.

They had it on the radar now. The current was strong, helping carry their weight. Vulcan had always carried so well underwater. Suze tapped the comm. "Tendo?"

" _Yeah? I'm here."_

"Give our love to Kennedy and Steffie, will you? And Raleigh...if you ever see him, tell him we love him. Always, okay? If Raleigh ever decides to come back, promise you'll be there for him. Let him know we never forgot him." _Or Yance. I guess maybe we're about to tell Yance ourselves._

" _I will,"_ Tendo said in a choked voice. " _I will."_

" _Devi?!"_

God, the sound of Chuck's voice was hard to take now. Devi took a deep breath and answered. "I'm here, love. Hang in there, okay? You're gonna be okay."

" _I - I can't..."_

"Oh, yeah, you can, Chuck Hansen," Suze growled. "You can do anything, boyo, you proved that to everyone. Don't you dare bloody forget it. You promised us. Remember that."

"... _I promise. Suze, I promise."_

"Herc?" asked Devi. "You too."

" _Yeah. Yeah, I promise, Dev._ "

Suze glanced at her sister, knowing all too well what Devi had always wanted to say. _Not gonna tell him?_

Devi shook her head. _What'd be the point, other than making it even worse for him than it already is? If he knew how I really felt, then he knew. If he didn't, maybe that's better now._

The sea floor abruptly ended in a dark cliff into what looked like nothingness on the visual screen. Beyond the cliff, the sea floor was over a mile below.

If they timed the self-destruct right, they'd be gone in about three minutes. If they didn't, they might live a few minutes longer, but they'd be gone in seconds after hitting bottom, because an impact like that would breach the conn-pod even without the reactor blowing.

Even if the escape pods were functional now, what would be the point? Just to linger and die gruesomely of radiation poisoning in a hospital bed in a few days or weeks while their friends and family watched? _No bloody thank-you._

They took a deep breath, in sync like all Jaeger pilots in the drift. "Okay, LOCCENT, we're there. You'll see when we start the countdown. We're gonna turn off the comm." _Sorry. Just can't bear to hear you at the end._

" _Okay, Vulcan Specter, we hear you."_ They weren't sure who had taken over the comm in LOCCENT, but it wasn't Indra or Tendo. No need to wonder why. _"God bless you, Rangers. You're the best that ever lived."_

They rushed through it, not because of the reactor, but because it was just too hard. "Indra, Kyrra, Mum and Dad...we love you," said Susanti.

"Herc, Chuck... remember your promise, boys. We regret nothing. We'll always be with you. Goodbye." Devi said. Then she and Suze slapped off the comm so they didn't have to hear what anyone said in response, and looked at each other. Somehow, the nausea and cramps of radiation poisoning hurt less than the sheer agony of hearing their family's grief. Joining the Jaeger Program, they'd never imagined winding up with such a big family.

_We always knew it might end like this. That it might hurt our family. Maybe if we'd realized how big our family would get, we'd have chosen different._

_...Nah. No regrets._

They grinned to each other, stretched out Vulcan's arms, and fell.

Vulcan picked up speed and water rushed through his damaged hull, and they keyed in the reactor override sequence together. Their fingers hovered over the final command.

_Ready? Ready._

_Reactor meltdown in T-minus-sixty,_ Vulcan intoned. In LOCCENT, the crew would receive the message.

Their work done, Devi and Susanti pulled off their helmets and disconnected from the rig. Nothing else to do. The countdown went on, dispassionate, as Devi and her sister sank to the floor in each other's arms.

"Y'okay?" she asked, as Suze fought not to let pain and nausea overwhelm her.

"I'll be damned if I'm spending my last seconds alive puking."

They giggled. Then Devi shivered, fighting the knowledge that her baby sister was going to her death here, and there was nothing Devi could do -

"No, no, don't you dare," Suze ordered. "Not that either." They clung to each other, forehead to forehead. They had the drift, more powerful than ever after combat and eight years of neural handshakes. There was no need to talk aloud, but they did it anyway. "Love you, sis."

"I'm so proud of you, Suze. Love you. I wouldn't trade anything, ever."

"Me either."

Not scared. Not scared.

_5...4...3...2...1...Reactor Meltdown._

* * *

_Point Lookout, Australian coast..._

Herc and Chuck didn't move from where they'd been standing as Vulcan began walking away. Mammoth stayed at their side.

Ketteridge dared to let them hear his voice while Vulcan's blip was still moving steadily away on the tactical screen toward's the edge of the continental shelf. " _Striker, Mammoth, report back to the drop point for -"_

"- Shut up," Herc interrupted, and muted the line from LOCCENT. Devi and Suze had cut the comm line to Striker and Mammoth so they could talk privately with their family in Brisbane, but just in case they called back, he kept the line to the other conn-pods open.

On his left, Chuck stared at the blip and the gently-rolling ocean in front of them. The kid still couldn't comprehend how this could be happening.

When Devi and Susanti said their final goodbye, they cut the comm off before Chuck or Herc could navigate the maelstrom of words and thoughts and feelings in their heads to speak. The blip didn't move much laterally, but the depth readout showed that Vulcan Specter was falling.

_They're falling._

The clock popped up. Vulcan's reactor was on its final countdown.

_Do they hurt? Are they scared? Do they know? Will they..._

The blip vanished. The clock vanished at the same time.

It meant...it meant...

Chuck kept staring at the screen, then he stared at the surface of the Coral Sea, half-expecting to see water erupt from the explosion. No disturbance was visible, just the ordinary wind-driven waves.

No sign at all to indicate that Devi and Susanti Hassan had just...

Chuck still couldn't think it. Herc could, but he didn't bloody want to.

_We promise. We promised._ So when their minds tried to turn back to the fight, to what they should have done, or Mammoth - they made it stop. _We promised._ No casting blame.

Twenty minutes passed, or maybe twenty seconds. Then their comm buzzed. " _Guys?_ " It was Bobby in Mammoth. " _Guys, Tendo wants you to pick up."_

Herc raised a sluggish hand to the controls and reopened the comm to Sydney. Tendo's rough voice hit their already-compressed chests with renewed pressure. " _Hey, guys. Listen...c'mon, come home. It's over."_

_Home?_ How the hell could they go home without Devi and Suze? They didn't want to go back... _no. We promised._ No giving up.

That meant they had to go back. Walk past Vulcan's empty bay. Face Indra. Face the other Rangers. Face Brisbane.

And Herc realized what else they needed to do. "Okay, LOCCENT. We're returning to the drop point. Have a chopper pick us up."

_"Copy that, Striker. Vibby Alpha's on his way."_

Vibby Alpha was piloted by Greg Oliver. Good. Chuck latched onto Herc's idea, and the resistance that had dogged the handshake for the past godforsaken hour dissolved, the drift flowing free again. Chuck was still having trouble believing it. A part of the kid was simply reeling, unable to grasp the idea that Devi and Susanti Hassan weren't coming home with them.

When they moved into position and powered down, Chuck stood in the rig, paralyzed. Drift shock was barely noticeable from the shock to heart and soul of what had just happened. Herc pulled off his helmet and went to help him. "C'mon." Chuck got his helmet off and stumbled free of the rig to lean on Herc. "Let's do this." _We promised._

Chuck nodded.

But in the lift rig rising through the air to Greg Oliver's chopper, Chuck couldn't stop staring out at the ocean.

Once inside the cabin, Herc leaned toward Greg. "We're not going directly back to the Dome."

The crew looked at him in alarm, and Marijani, Greg's co-pilot, began hesitantly, "Herc..."

"Take us to Pineapple Park. Now."

And Greg and Marijani realized what they wanted: to land in the open area nearest to Devi and Susanti's neighborhood, where their family was. The chopper pilots exchanged a look, then Greg nodded and turned to the control. "On our way."

Of course, Ketteridge pitched a fit when he realized Vibby Alpha wasn't going straight back to Sydney. " _Return to your Shatterdome immediately, that's an order!"_

Herc calmly told him, "Go to hell." Then they turned their suit comms off.

Ketteridge would figure it out. Greg ignored the comm from Sydney and called the civilian air traffic controllers to let them know his flight path into Brisbane. Nobody on Vibby Alpha, Rangers or crew, especially gave a damn whether Marshal Ketteridge approved or not.

* * *

_Okinawa, Japan..._

On the television screens, the reporters heard something in their bluetooths, and their expressions changed in unison. The caption changed to _Vulcan Specter destroyed, pilots dead,_ and an image of Devi and Susanti Hassan, with their birth dates - and death dates.

" _That's now confirmed, on a tragic day in Australian and human history, the two most successful and celebrated Jaeger pilots in history have died following catastrophic damage to their Jaeger, Vulcan Specter. Devi Hassan was thirty-four; her sister Susanti Hassan was thirty-two."_

Paul Terrence took a deep breath, and took a measure of his surroundings. Even some of the men who were working up on the Wall took off their hard hats, if only for a moment. No one approached Raleigh Becket, and those who might have tried were warned off by a quiet group of men who maintained a loose perimeter as he stood alone staring at the ocean, his hard hat on the ground by his feet.

Not far away was the post of one of Okinawa's many American military bases, and as the men of the Wall watched, a group of soldiers lowered the flag to half-mast. Another group of seven formed an honor guard and pointed their rifles at the sea.

Raleigh flinched each time the seven guns fired.

Paul Terrence knew that hadn't been any formal, scheduled display. Obviously the American troops were just that moved by the Rangers' deaths as the reporters and the workers. _As well they should be._

The television droned on, now giving the biographies of the fallen pilots. " _They graduated Class 2016-B of the Jaeger Academy, along with the pilots of Jaeger Vulcan Specter and Jaeger Gipsy Danger. Gipsy Danger was destroyed in 2020. Hydra Corinthian is now the last of that class still in service."_

Raleigh flinched again.

" _Dramatic new images are coming out of Brisbane now, one of Striker Eureka's command helicopters is making an unscheduled landing in Raymond Park, near the Queensland University of Technology, very close to the neighborhood where the Hassans grew up and where their parents and family still live. We can guess what's going on - yes, there they are, Hercules and Chuck Hansen, Striker Eureka's pilots, still in their armor, coming off the helicopter. They're just walking, not saying anything to the reporters who've been gathering near the Hassan residence since these terrible events began unfolding; they're going straight to the house of their fellow Rangers' parents. God, what a heart-breaking sight."_

Raleigh didn't turn to look, but Paul watched. The reporters followed the Hansens, who wore an identical pinched, controlled expression belied by the redness of their eyes, all the way to the handsome house with its windows and blinds drawn. A woman in a hijab, too young to be either of the parents, met them at the door and ushered them inside.

_"I don't know who answered the door, that wasn't Mr. or Mrs. Hassan...okay, our cameraman onsite says he's heard that was a neighbor."_

There wasn't much left for the reporters to do but speculate on what was happening inside that stricken house. No doubt it was the same scene that had played out in Paul's house the day Stacker Pentecost had come to the door with news of Damon and Luna. Eventually, the coverage returned to eulogizing the Rangers. Pictures and video clips followed, and from the Jaeger Academy, more than a few included young Raleigh Becket, with the Hassans and his brother.

After several hours, Raleigh hadn't moved, and a few of the men muttered amongst themselves before heading to the cantina. They returned and each contributed a small item from their rations: a bottle of water, a container of instant rice, a can of pickled vegetables, and a little pack of mochi. Paul trailed after them, and knew what the explanation would be for daring to approach a former soldier mourning his comrades.

One of the Japanese workers brought the gift to him. From where Paul stood, they were silhouettes against the sunset. "Here." The man, a former serviceman, bowed to Raleigh. "In honor of your friends."

Raleigh said nothing. He just trembled as he took the food and bowed back.

* * *

_Brisbane, Australia..._

Chuck and Herc stayed at the Hassans' house until very late. Chuck wasn't sure how he would handle it when he saw Devi and Suze's mum and dad's faces, but somehow, a calm shell formed around him. So he didn't break even when their mum broke down crying and collapsed into Chuck's arms the moment she saw him.

Greg, Marijani, and the rest of the Vibby Alpha crew formed a perimeter outside the house to keep the reporters at bay, and just waited patiently for Herc and Chuck to say whatever needed to be said, and hear whatever needed to be heard.

What was there to say and hear at a moment like this?

Chuck hugged Devi and Suze's mum, and she hugged him. Herc promised their dad and uncle and cousins in a ragged voice that they'd been in good spirits at the end, that they hadn't suffered ( _much,_ they amended it in the ghost drift). The family insisted on feeding them dinner - or rather, making dinner so all of them could pick at it and wonder what the hell came next.

Herc did most of the talking. Chuck couldn't. But he made up for it, he hoped, by hugging more people in that house than he'd hugged people collectively in the past nine years. Hell, most of those hugs he'd had in those past nine years had been to Devi and Susanti.

And now they were...

It went in cycles of dazed, anguished silence to the family's renewed floods of tears, then rambling conversations about Devi and Susanti, their plans, their pasts, their wishes, their love, and their conviction.

Very late, or probably very early in the morning, Mr. Hassan stirred himself out of another numb silence. "You should go back to your Shatterdome. Your commander is going to be unhappy with you."

Some astonishing flicker of - was that humor? - rippled through Chuck. He actually smiled. "Our commander'll get the hell over it."

Devi and Suze's mum wiped her eyes and smiled, cupping Chuck's cheek. He'd never have imagined letting anybody do that - well, anybody who wasn't a Hassan, so maybe it wasn't that weird. "They wouldn't want you to give up the fight. So you've got to go back."

Herc looked at the clock, looked at Chuck, and sighed. "Yeah." He rubbed his eyes. "We know."

They pulled themselves to their feet, and Devi and Suze's parents and uncle walked them to the door. Chuck let them hug him and whisper, "They wouldn't want you to blame yourselves. They loved you very much. No one is to blame."

"Just the kaiju," said Herc, embracing Mrs. Hassan. "And we're gonna make every last one of them pay for it."

"Always," Chuck agreed, finding his voice. "Every Ranger alive, every last one. We'll all make them pay."

They all smiled now, something hard and vengeful and anticipatory. "There will be the memorial on the base, but perhaps your Marshal will let you come here for the funeral," said Indra's dad.

"We will," said Herc without hesitating. "We will." _Whether said Marshal likes it or not._

They whispered their goodbyes, and returned with their crew to the chopper.

Chuck had thought nothing would be worse than seeing Devi and Susanti's mum and dad and uncle and knowing they'd failed to save - _no, we promised them, can't think that way_ \- but he felt a desperation as they arrived back at the Shatterdome that made him want to just run down the access road and keep running. Anything to avoid having to go inside.

Worse, Ketteridge was waiting. Thankfully, it was out of sight of any cameras. "Rangers, I know this has been very difficult for you, but you -"

Herc brushed past without even looking at him. "Fuck off." Chuck stayed at his father's heels, and to his intense relief, Ketteridge didn't follow them.

_You hated them. You never treated them like they deserved. They killed_ nine _kaiju, helped kill even more, and they were never good enough. You stinking, bigoted bastard, you finally got what you wanted: a Shatterdome without Devi and Susanti Hassan. Go to hell with the kaiju. Go to hell with Scott, you piece of shit._

He wasn't sure whether those thoughts originated in his own head or Herc's, and didn't really care. They both felt them down to the bone, and it resonated through the ghost drift.

They veered off from the drivesuit room. "You need to get your armor off, mate," Greg said.

"Yeah, we know," said Herc. "Not yet." Why it was so important not to take their armor off yet, neither of them could be sure. "Where's Indra?"

"Officers' lounge."

"Tendo and Kyrra?" asked Chuck.

"Same," said Ken Gould, coming to meet them. "Everybody's kinda...gathering there."

On the way, a puffy-eyed Sarla Johar met them with Max on his leash. "I'm - Chuck - I mean Rangers, I'm so, so sorry."

"Thanks, love," Herc said weakly.

Chuck gave Max a scratch, but asked her, "Hey, d'you mind, just a little longer? We need to...talk to some people first."

"Sure, no problem." Sarla tugged Max back, and they went on.

The officers' lounge was full of people from Team Striker, Team Vulcan, Team Mammoth, and Team Shaolin Rogue, but everyone cleared out in a huge hurry once Herc and Chuck entered and found Indra, sitting with some of Vulcan's crew on one of the couches. Everyone went, even Tendo and Kyrra, leaving Herc and Chuck alone with Indra before any of them could say that nobody really had to leave.

But there they were.

Indra stared at them, looking as lost and empty and hopeless as they felt. Then he lunged at Chuck, and the two of them hugged like their lives were depending on it. And Indra broke and sobbed, deep and hard. Herc kept a hand on each of their backs.

"Sorry...sorry..." Indra choked.

"Don't be, mate," Herc murmured. "'s all right. Believe me, it's all right."

The storm ended as abruptly as it started, and Indra leaned back, wiping his eyes as he looked at Chuck. "They loved you," he said, squeezing Chuck's shoulder.

And Chuck spoke aloud something he hadn't said about anyone in...maybe ever. "I loved them. I did." _Why didn't I ever say it to them? I should've told them._

"I know, boyo. They knew."

"You want leave, to go home and be with your family?" Herc asked. He'd released Chuck, but not Indra.

Indra shook his head. "No, I mean, yeah, for the funer-" He broke off for a second and sucked in his breath. "Not leaving, though. I'll stay, however you can use me, if you can -"

"Hell, yeah, we'll find something," Chuck vowed. Herc nodded.

With Tendo and Kyrra, it was much the same. It would be bad with everyone from Team Vulcan, but Indra, Tendo, and Kyrra had been closest to Devi and Suze.

_Had been._ It still kept slamming into Chuck's awareness again and again that all of that was past tense now. After that initial gathering with the crews, they finally went to get out of their armor and put the day's engagement to an end.

De-suiting in the drivesuit room went on in numb silence. When Chuck was back in his clothes, it hit him again, and he left in a rush without even waiting for his dad. He collected Max from Sarla and kept moving, with Max scampering at his heels, oblivious.

He didn't want to go back to quarters. He wanted to be outside - no, no he didn't, then he'd have to see reporters or look at the ocean and he didn't want to do either. Couldn't look at Striker, Striker had failed, they'd failed - but he'd promised, he couldn't think like that either - couldn't sleep, couldn't let today end because then he'd wake up tomorrow in a world where Devi and Susanti weren't -

He rounded a corner into the Kwoon, thinking he might as well do something physical - and plowed into Herc. Max barked and even growled until he realized who it was, then he started whining.

Chuck staggered and Herc steadied him, but when he tried to turn away, Herc wouldn't let go. "Get off," Chuck muttered. It wasn't that he was mad, he just...couldn't... not now, if he stopped moving then...

"No." Dad wouldn't let go. He kicked the door shut and stood there in the empty gym refusing to release Chuck. "I can't."

"What the - why?"

Dad's voice, going rough and raw all over again, finally broke through the shell. "'cause they'd never forgive me 'f I left you 'lone tonight. Can't. Promised them."

Chuck stopped. He looked up and saw Dad's face. A noise...some horrible whine escaped Chuck's throat, but he couldn't let go now. Because he remembered: he'd promised too. _"Stick with your dad."_

Dad hugged Chuck. Chuck hugged his dad, and they sank to the floor in a heap.

Devi and Suze were gone. _Gone._

_I loved them. I did. Indra said they knew. Did they?_

_I think they did, kid._

Max circled, sniffing them. Max didn't know. And it all cascaded over his head, impossible to evade or escape anymore. It burned its way out of Chuck's chest and rose up from his throat, and a sob choked out of him. Then another. He didn't want to cry, couldn't remember the last time he'd done it. But he didn't know how to stop it, or even if he should. So he held onto his dad, because he didn't know what else to do, and knew that his dad was holding onto him because he didn't know either.

Neither of them knew what to do now.

All they knew was that they'd promised.

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** The final full chapter of this fic. _ _Herc and Chuck bear witness to the final year of the Jaeger Program, and the utter despair and bitterness that comes with the deaths of so many friends, and Stacker Pentecost prepares for the Rangers' last stand in_ _**Chapter Forty-Seven:** _ _**Götterdämmerung.** _
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!** ( _And please don't kill me for this chapter!_ )
> 
> **Original Character Guide**
> 
> **Devi/Susanti Hassan:** Rangers of Vulcan Specter, Australia's Mark-3 Jaeger. Sisters, ages 34 and 22, first-generation daughters of Indonesian immigrants to Australia who graduated Jaeger Academy's Class 2016-B along with the Beckets, Kennedy LaRue, and Stephanie Lanphier.
> 
> **Indra Hassan:** Devi and Susanti's cousin, age 43, went through the Jaeger Academy with them but wasn't drift compatible with anyone, so trained as their LOCCENT Chief.
> 
> **Kyrra Taior:** Chief Engineer for Lucky Seven, then Striker Eureka. Aboriginal Australian, Herc's age. Youngest and sole surviving daughter of Marian Taior, an elderly aboriginal woman who occasionally looked after Chuck when he was younger. Susanti Hassan's long-term girlfriend.
> 
> **Bobby Kanda/Ken Gould:** Pilots of Mammoth Apostle, early 30s, US National Guardsmen. Bobby is Japanese-American, Ken is African-American. Previously stationed in Los Angeles.
> 
> **Marshal Blake Ketteridge:** Commanding Officer of Sydney Shatterdome. Australia's senior liaison to the PPDC, a former Air Vice Marshall of the Royal Australian Air Force.
> 
> **Paul Terrence:** A neighbor of Stacker's parents who took Stacker and his sister Luna in after their parents' deaths. His son, Damon, was also a Royal Air Force pilot and died in combat with Trespasser along with Luna Pentecost. Black, British, late 50s at the time of the movie. Kept an eye on Raleigh as a favor to Stacker.
> 
> **Greg Oliver:** Herc's comrade and fellow chopper pilot from before K-Day, became a support pilot for Lucky Seven and then Striker Eureka. Like Herc, he joined the Jaeger Program in the wake of Scissure. He lost his parents and his oldest daughter, Karina, in the attack. His son, Danny, was accepted into the Jaeger Academy after four tries despite lower academic scores than Chuck, and is now pilot of Tacit Ronin.


	47. Götterdämmerung

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final full chapter of this fic. Herc and Chuck bear witness to the final year of the Jaeger Program, and the utter despair and bitterness that comes with the deaths of so many friends, and Stacker Pentecost prepares for the Rangers' last stand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes** _ _: My dear readers, my sincerest apologies for the long wait. Although my work situation has infinitely improved, Real Life has still been rather rough, and I just haven't had the mental energy to go through the final editing process, especially on a chapter that covers so many painful events. This is the penultimate chapter, fast-forwarding through the final year of the Jaeger Program and all the destruction that leads us to where we were at the start of the movie. With that in mind..._
> 
> _**Trigger Warning**_ _: This long chapter covers a great deal of violence and death. Nothing very graphic, but if you're in a bad emotional place, you might want to hold off on reading it. I can promise an upcoming chapter in_ _Tales From The Front Lines_ _which will end on a more upbeat note_.
> 
> _**Fanon Note:**_ _This chapter ties into the most recent chapter of Tales From The Front Lines, which told the story of Raleigh's time working on the wall, and of Paul Terrence, the OC who kept an eye on him for Stacker_.

**Chapter Forty-Seven: Götterdämmerung**

_September 30, 2024…  
Honolulu, Hawaii…_

Stacker Pentecost and Mako Mori watched the memorial events for the world's greatest Rangers from Honolulu General Hospital. The day after the official PPDC memorial, attended by thousands and mirrored by other events in multiple cities that the Hassans had saved, another was held in Brisbane by the Hassans' families. Rumor had it that Herc and Chuck Hansen, along with Ken Gould and Bobby Kanda of Mammoth Apostle, simply told Marshal Ketteridge – told, rather than asked – that they were taking leave for the day and left the Shatterdome without waiting for him to answer.

Stacker couldn't really blame them, knowing how Ketteridge had treated Devi and Susanti Hassan. Those women had deserved far better.

_Every Ranger in history deserved better._

Including the one whose deathbed he now attended.

On the fifth day after Vulcan Specter self-destructed in the Coral Sea, Ranger Tamsin Sevier died of cancer in her co-pilot's arms, with her adopted niece at their side.

After it was over, Stacker stroked Mako's hair as she wept, and he gazed out the window. The sun was rising in Honolulu. How many other families were mourning like this? What had it felt like in Sydney as the sun came up for the first day after Devi and Susanti Hassan died? In Brisbane? What had it felt like for Duc the morning after Kaori succumbed to cancer? For the families of Vic and Gunnar Tunari?

_It feels like the end of the world._

The world hadn't stopped, and the sun continued rising. Stacker and Mako dried their tears and buried Tamsin there in Hawaii. She hadn't wanted to be buried in Edinburgh or London. There hadn't been anyone left there in her mind.

They returned to Anchorage and to work, because they'd promised Tamsin that they wouldn't let the world end without a fight.

The fight was coming from multiple directions now. General Liang in Hong Kong was in ill health, and Marshal Quijano in Panama City was under tremendous pressure to agree that the Wall could defend the canal better than her Jaegers. Brazil withdrew its support for the Jaeger Program altogether and closed the Proving Grounds and Assembly facilities in Sao Paolo. Marshal Morais would remain as commander of the Lima Shatterdome, but that was the only concession that the South American nations made.

The US presidential election was not going well for the PPDC. The hardline right-wing former reality TV star, Jerry Lunk, was making a campaign promise that the entire United States would be behind an anti-kaiju wall by the end of his first year in office. His opponent was far less extreme (in everything), but even she expressed doubt in the Jaeger Program's chances of turning the tide of war.

Japan consolidated command over its two Shatterdomes in Admiral Yamamoto and removed Colonel Okita. Tokyo remained open, but Nagasaki would only be open for deployment purposes. The Wall was going up all around it. Even Russia was wavering.

As for Australia… as Sydney Shatterdome's commander, Blake Ketteridge had nothing but the contempt of his remaining Rangers and the ambivalent support of the Australian brass. Many suspected he only kept the bloody job because there was no one else who _wanted_ the bloody job.

The day after Stacker and Mako returned to Anchorage, the UN instructed the Rangers and commanding officers to select a particular commanding officer to speak for the Jaeger Program. General Liang quietly informed the Rangers that he didn't want the job and wouldn't accept it, and Admiral Yamamoto said the same. Marshal Morais and Marshal Quijano too were getting fed up with the whole thing. They would administer their Shatterdomes for as long as it was permitted, but not take on more political duties.

Somehow, it ended up falling to Stacker. Maybe because he was the only one who didn't say no. Stacker knew the situation was growing desperate, and time to re-launch Gipsy Danger was growing shorter.

To that end, Stacker and Mako examined the status of the restoration project, and Mako suggested that it would help to bring in some of Gipsy Danger's former crew.

In Sydney, another mutiny was brewing, as Marshal Ketteridge dealt with the ever-decreasing budget by simply discharging all of Vulcan Specter's crew. Stacker couldn't take all of them, but put out a cautious request that personnel with Mark-3 experience were needed in Anchorage.

He wasn't all that surprised when it was Tendo Choi, rather than Indra Hassan, who took one of the slots. Indra Hassan would stay on in Sydney as Support Chief for Striker Eureka.

* * *

_October 3, 2024…  
Anchorage Shatterdome…_

For Tendo Choi, Anchorage Shatterdome was lonelier than ever. Two Jaegers occupied it now: Chrome Brutus and Romeo Blue. The bays that had once housed Gipsy Danger and Cascade Victor were empty. Brawler Yukon remained on Kodiak Island in the Assembly Building, since deploying him from there was actually easier than from a Shatterdome. The Shatterdomes hadn't been designed with Brawler Yukon in mind.

During the Leap Day memorial earlier that year, everyone who'd ever been part of Team Gipsy had asked for rooms in the "guest crew" section, rather than the permanent staff housing they'd once occupied.

Tendo had made the mistake of going down to the officers' lounge just to see who might be hanging around. There had been nobody there, and he had taken exactly two steps into the room before spinning around and hurrying back down the hall. It wasn't a superstitious thing. Tendo didn't believe in ghosts. But even four years on, he'd been overwhelmed by memories of hours spent during winter alert periods in that lounge, playing with the Beckets' table map, singing karaoke, playing cards...Raleigh goofing off, Yancy sprawled on the couch. The sting had been almost physical, and Tendo couldn't take it.

He didn't bother trying now. However, he did go down to Gipsy's old "ready room" where the crew had placed the memorials, first of the twelve officers who'd died when Whiskey Gamma crashed in 2019, then of Yancy Becket. The mementos had been divided up when Team Gipsy dissolved, but the pictures and the names were still here, as well as the little memorial shrines that the religious or just sentimental personnel had made to their lost friends.

It stabbed Tendo's heart that much more to see it again, but the sight made him smile too: someone from the currently-stationed crews was carefully maintaining this room. There was a stock of fresh candles and cleaning equipment in the cabinets that had once held excess maintenance supplies, and there wasn't a speck of dust on any of the pictures.

Tendo lit a new candle beneath each of his friends' pictures and murmured a prayer for them. _I miss you guys so much. I'm glad our Gamma gang didn't have to go through 2020, but I still miss you. You take care of Yance for us all._

Lighting a new candle for Yancy last, he looked at his friend's smiling face and took a shuddering breath. "I hope to God you can forgive us for how things turned out, Yance. Maybe we should've tried harder to hang onto him. I think...we just couldn't figure out how to do it without forcing him. It didn't seem right to force him. Dev and Suze..." his throat closed, and he couldn't speak aloud anymore. _They can tell you more, now that they're with you. I promised them too: I'm gonna stay to the end, even if it's the end of the world. As long as Kennedy and Steffie are alive, or Rals, or any other pilot, whatever country, whatever Shatterdome, I'll be there for them. No matter how much it hurts. And, man, it hurts. But I'll endure it, because I promised Yeye. And because I loved you guys. I'll keep all my promises._

He decided that a picture of Devi and Susanti should go in this room too. There was already a memorial going up in Sydney, but it'd be...nice, to have one here with thirteen of their classmates.

Wiping his eyes as he exited the room, he paused, and on a hunch, went down to what used to be Cascade Victor's bay. Sure enough, one of their ready room doors was unlocked, and inside was a memorial to Nathan and Juliette Girard, just like the one for Team Gipsy. Lighting candles and whispering prayers for them was easier - relatively speaking, anyway. Memories still pummeled him, of the Girard cousins whooping it up at the crew parties, playing around in the snow with the Beckets and Team Chrome during that last winter of 2019-2020 when all the northerners had been in Anchorage together. The Girards were Quebecois, and used to yammer away with the Beckets in French during the long, dark winter days.

The Canadians and the Alaskans had all hoped to ride together one day. They had planned to yell, " _Winter is coming!_ " when their triple team deployed. They hadn't ever had the chance.

Now Chrome Brutus was the only one of that northern trio still in service. " _Au revoir, mes amis_." That was about the limit of Tendo's French, but he knew Nathan and Juliette would understand.

He detoured to wash his face, then went looking for Mako Mori. She looked vaguely familiar; he must have seen her around the Dome, maybe back in February during the Leap Day memorials. "Mr. Choi, thank you so much for coming. And please, let me tell you how very sorry I am for the loss of the Hassans. They were great pilots, and I know you were friends."

Tendo forced a smile despite the renewed tightness in his throat. "Thanks. Yeah, I...can't pretend things are good right now, but I'm glad for some distraction. And Indra needs to keep busy - Indra Hassan, he's their cousin, was their support chief. It'll be easier on him and the Hansens, for them to stay together in Sydney."

Mako nodded, sad and all too understanding. She went on more hesitantly, "I asked for you to consider joining this project, because...of your experience. We are restoring a Mark-3 with what is left of the research and development budget." There was a bitterness in her voice, a wry quirk in her mouth that told Tendo she felt much as he did about the cause of the waning budget. _Cowardly, conniving politicians._

"Well, I'm not J-Tech, but I did work a lot with the Mark-3's in action. Gipsy, Vulcan, Chrome mostly. And Matador Fury. We tended to be all hands on deck during deployment with anyone we shared a Dome with. Indra Hassan and I did a lot of schematic sharing. So which Jaeger are you..." Tendo trailed off as his mind, so overloaded with grief and anger and exhaustion, finally took the time to do the math. What Mark-3 could they be "restoring"? Not Vulcan – it would be impossible even if they could have brought what was left of him back to the surface inside of a week. Only two other Mark-3 Jaegers were down. Matador Fury? Matador had been another violent meltdown; hell, the wreckage was probably still toxic.

So that left...

"Oh my God." He sank into a chair. "You're restoring Gipsy Danger."

"I'm sorry." Mako cringed. "I… I should have considered before that this would be...emotional for you."

Tendo took a deep breath and fought to get a grip on himself. "It...it's okay, it is. We've still got a war to fight, it's just...yeah, wow." He gave her a weak smile. "Thanks for warning me before I walked into the bay. Who...who have you got in mind to be the pilots?" It was already whispering in the back of his mind: _Rals?_

"We don't currently have a team selected. Marshal Pentecost would like us to be further along with the restoration of Gipsy's systems before we begin the selection process, because so much will depend on how she is configured."

" _If Raleigh ever decides to come back, promise you'll be there for him._ " Could Devi and Suze have known about this? Indra might know, but how the hell could Tendo ask him now, so soon after his cousins' deaths?

"I guess...you can probably guess who I'm thinking of."

Mako nodded. "I know you and Ranger Becket - both of them - were very close. And yes, that thought's occurring to nearly everyone on the project. I think it would...at least be a courtesy, to tell him and give him the opportunity, if he wants it. If we can find him."

Tendo's heart sank. "You don't know where he is?"

"I'm afraid not. On the advice of Marshal Pentecost and Dr. Lightcap, we didn't hire an investigator to search for him. They felt that his wishes to be away from the Jaeger Program should be respected unless there was no other choice."

Tendo supposed he could understand that...to a point. He sighed and slapped his hands onto his thighs, making himself stand up. "Well. I guess let's get the reunion going. Take me to see my old friend."

Mako smiled more easily and led the way to the repair bay.

* * *

_October 6, 2024…  
Kuching, Malaysia…_

Striker Eureka and Mammoth Apostle took on Likho together with every intention of making this bastard pay along with every one that came after. Just like the A-Team had once roared vengeance for their friends after Horizon Brave and Gipsy Danger went down, Herc and Chuck went in roaring Devi and Susanti's names, vowing to make this kill for them.

The best laid plans fell to nothing. It was a brutal kill…but Likho took Mammoth Apostle down with him.

Bobby Kanda and Ken Gould were strong, strategic fighters; they knew the plan and stuck to it, knew when to advance and when to retreat.

It was almost as if Likho had figured out what the plan was. Or at least he'd figured out where the Jaegers' weaknesses lay. There was no reactor to breach on Mammoth, but then the bastard kaiju went for the conn-pods. Herc and Chuck were able to fend him off with their high shoulders, but Mammoth was built less like a rugby player. A well-timed swipe nearly took off Mammoth's face, and as he fell, despite everything Herc and Chuck did to draw Likho's attention back to Striker, the kaiju climbed up the superstructure and tore the conn-pod apart.

Once LOCCENT confirmed there were no vitals in the conn-pod, and just looking made it all too clear that there was no way Ken and Bobby were alive, Herc and Chuck emptied their K-Stunners into Likho while he was still shredding what was left of Mammoth. They barely even had to close with him again.

After that, even with Indra now their LOCCENT chief and Kyrra Taior still their chief engineer, Herc and Chuck didn't talk about Devi and Susanti anymore.

To add insult to injury for the Americans, the asshole C.O. of Los Angeles Shatterdome and a coalition of his pro-Wall of Life supporters (including the Republican nominee for President) gave the UN an ultimatum: either reassign Hydra Corinthian to Los Angeles, or the United States Congress would vote to close it and incorporate it into the Wall. Team Hydra wasn't at all keen to be under that jerk's command, but they announced they'd go wherever they were needed. Marshal Quijano of Panama City Shatterdome was furious, and she, Pentecost, and Marshal Morais of Lima fought the blackmail.

They offered the U.S. up to three additional Jaegers, but to no avail. The vote passed, and Los Angeles no longer had an assigned Jaeger. Until the Wall was finished, it would be available for Jaegers to deploy from, but with Yankee Star down, it would be empty except during alerts.

* * *

_October 31, 2024…  
Acapulco, Mexico…_

Chuck never would have imagined a situation where he'd hope to _not_ get deployed. But he and his old man were bloody tired. Only ten days after they took the black armbands for Mammoth Apostle off their sleeves, they were back in the drivesuit room again.

They wound up deploying from the eerily-empty Los Angeles Shatterdome in the shadow of California's nearly-finished Wall.

First Brawler Yukon and Romeo Blue challenged Fiend outside San Diego. The Category IV took Brawler down, and only Romeo's barrage of Gatlin fire drove him back. Brawler himself was a write-off. His unorthodox design and the fact that he wound up face-down saved Caitlin and Sergio. They came out of the conn-pod with only minor injuries.

Herc and Chuck landed on the outskirts of Acapulco, outside where Matador Fury had melted down three years before. Herc and Chuck pinned Fiend down almost unassisted and hacked the bastard to death before unleashing their K-Stunners on him.

Chuck never would have imagined that his third kill in a row would feel so meaningless.

Rather than hang around under the sneer of the American commander, they hitched a ride to San Diego. Los Angeles Shatterdome no longer had an infirmary, so the Gages and D'onofrios were in the hospital nearest to the sight of the engagement.

Caitlin and Sergio were in reasonably good spirits, but the state of the twins struck Herc hard, and washed over Chuck through the ghost drift. Nearly every memory that Herc had of Bruce and Trevin, and every one that Chuck had from his own encounters with the Gage twins were full of their smiles, their laughter, and their jokes.

Not now. Trevin had been lacerated when a broken piece of his rig punctured his armor, and the staff at the hospital weren't very understanding about Bruce's need to be close to his co-pilot. It took a lot of wrangling – and Chuck getting quite aggressive – to persuade them that they were interfering with Trevin's ability to recover.

Even when they were together, the twins weren't the same. Their spirits were dull, their eyes were haunted, and neither of them had much to say. Once the hospital staff kicked the visitors out of the twins' room, Caitlin confirmed what they already suspected. "Caleb Mitchell's cancer is advancing rapidly. He's got a few months at most. Tanisha Davis was diagnosed too, but she's responding to treatment."

"Goddammit," Herc muttered and turned away. "This on top of losing Bobby and Ken…yeah, the Americans aren't having a good year."

He didn't mention that the Aussies weren't either, and if Caitlin and Sergio thought it, they didn't say. "They've never been like this before," said Sergio. "Damn media is saying it's the end of the world, and Bruce and Trev may be starting to believe it."

Chuck scowled. "Well, they better pull it together before they deploy again unless they want it to be a self-fulfilling prophecy."

Caitlin and Sergio looked dismayed, but in Herc's eyes and the ghost drift was nothing but disgust.

* * *

_November 19, 2024…_

The ugly trend of falling Jaegers continued into November. Herc and Chuck didn't make contact with Tailspitter, but Tacit Ronin did, if only briefly. It ended up being Crimson Typhoon who took it down in Sapporo, Japan after it destroyed Katana Eagle and killed her pilots, Bora Sagong of Korea and Riyoji Aso of Japan.

Herc and Chuck hadn't known Bora and Riyoji well apart from saying hi during vidcomm meetings. Katana Eagle's kill record hadn't been impressive. Maybe they just hadn't ever been that good, Chuck reasoned.

Once again, Herc thought him callous and naïve. Chuck ignored it. It wasn't like he was thinking Bora or Riyoji or any other pilot deserved to die, and it wasn't his fault that his old man got all bent out of shape for him taking an honest look at what was going on in the Corps lately.

Dr. Dahari tried to press them both to talk about what it all meant, but Chuck didn't want to volunteer that theory, knowing the way Herc reacted to it. Herc didn't want to talk about the fatalities at all. They definitely didn't want to talk about the Hassans.

* * *

_November 30, 2024…  
Bohai Sea…_

Crimson Typhoon lost another partner only eleven days after Katana Eagle's destruction, when Kojiyama ripped Silver Lion to shreds. Typhoon managed (barely) to hold the bastard off _and_ keep him from running at the Korean or Chinese coastal cities until Striker Eureka arrived as back-up. Between the two of them, they made short work of Kojiyama, despite it being a Category IV.

Again, as sorry as Chuck was to see another pair of pilots go down, Silver Lion's successor pilots had only two kills, and both of those had been team efforts. The Wei triplets, on the other hand, had held their own entirely _on_ their own for almost three hours after Silver Lion was gone. So Rangers had actually had their shit together could keep it going, that much was clear as far as Chuck could see.

"Do you really believe that, Chuck?" Dr. Dahari asked during one of their mandatory sessions.

Chuck rolled his eyes. "No, I'm totally in the habit of saying shit I don't mean."

* * *

_December 2024…_

While Striker was under repairs after the engagement with Kojiyama, Stacker Pentecost asked Herc to come to Anchorage for the final closure of the Shatterdome. _"I'm expecting bad news. I'd like a representative from among the active duty Rangers on this call._ "

The result was as Herc feared: the entire bloody human race – or at least its military brass and politicians – were giving up on the Jaeger Program. They had eight months of funding left.

"We don't need them," Stacker said cryptically.

"What now, sir?" asked Tendo.

"We consolidate. General Liang wants to rejoin his family in the US – either for the end of the world or at least for his final years. He wants an experienced and sympathetic commander in Hong Kong for his remaining Rangers. I've accepted that position."

"So we're moving Gipsy over there too for re-launch?"

"Gipsy?!" Herc turned to Stacker in shock.

Tendo winced. "Sorry, Herc, I thought you knew."

Stacker gave him a droll smile and motioned Tendo out. "The remains of the J-Tech research and development budget went into the Mark-3 Restoration Project: Gipsy Danger. We've been working on her for nearly a year."

Herc leaned against the cloth-draped equipment of the decommissioned LOCCENT station. "But who've we got to pilot her? Does anyone even want the job of Ranger these days?"

"Oddly enough, there are still a few hardy souls hoping for the chance to become pilots. Mako among them," Stacker admitted. "She's heading the restoration project, but keeping up her training and simulations by her own choice. And lobbying me as much as she dares."

Herc had to smile. "I doubt your Mako's idea of lobbying is all that inappropriate. She knows her manners, that one. You've brought her up well." He sighed. "I wish I could say the same."

"Chuck is an excellent pilot."

"No doubt of that. It's outside the conn-pod that things are getting rough. He's got less patience for people than ever, even Indra and Kyrra. Even other pilots."

"These last few months have been hell for everyone. Bruce and Trevin are…very unhappy. Admiral Yamamoto tells me Pang So-yi and An Yuna aren't much better. Kennedy LaRue's brother begged her on his knees to stop piloting when they last saw each other. The Khouris, the Chens, the Siddhas, every pair of our pilots is under growing pressure from their families to stop before it's too late."

Herc closed his eyes. If anyone in the Hassan family had done that, Devi and Suze had never mentioned it. "Has anyone considered it?"

"I'm sure many of them have. So far none have taken that step. We most likely could find the pilots to replace them if their mech is in reasonable shape. But not experienced pilots." Stacker looked reluctantly at his tablet, and Herc put the final piece of the puzzle into place.

"My God. You're looking for Raleigh Becket, aren't you?"

Stacker's bleak expression told the tale. "It's the one thing I vowed I'd never do." He had Raleigh's old pilot profile on the screen. At the bottom of the notes was a new notation: _Candidate for re-enlistment?_ "I know where he is. Gipsy won't be ready for several more months. It's always possible that other experienced pilots might be available. Perhaps Sergio and Caitlin; they've kept their hand in with every model. Tanisha Davis was interested, but her health is deteriorating, and she may no longer be interested once Caleb is…gone."

"I didn't see Tanisha and Caleb in Los Angeles. The city was almost deserted back in October," said Herc.

"No, they've moved to Oklahoma. Caleb and his family reconciled a few years ago, I was glad to hear. As services decreased in Los Angeles, they invited Tanisha's mother and son to live with them – very generous given the price of inland real estate. Even the poorest townfolk have found themselves in possession of tremendous assets if they own any land."

"God." Herc gazed around the empty LOCCENT. "You have me starting to wish a few Rangers _would_ retire, if only to get a little peace before the world ends."

"Do you think it's ending?" Stacker asked. It was an earnest question.

Herc had to think about it for a few minutes. "At this point? I wish I could say I thought our odds were good. Kaiju are getting bigger. Worse, they're getting smarter. The suits have lost all confidence in us – if they ever had any. Contrary to what my kid says – or at least bloody thinks – none of the pilots we lost in the past six months were lacking in skill or courage. The kaiju are getting better."

As offensive as Chuck's attitude was, Stacker betrayed none of the outrage that it should have inspired. "Does he even think that of the Hassans now?"

Herc snorted to mask the painful noise that escaped his throat. "Nah. Not them. Never them. I'd probably lose my head and slug him if he ever... God, I wish they were here." He hadn't really meant to say it out loud, but…what the hell, there was nothing for it. And this was Stacker. He'd understand. So Herc went on, and found to his surprise that talking about it eased a little of the pressure inside. "They could talk sense into him. Or show me how to do it. They did it often enough…before. Our psych team leader's good. Chuck respects her, or at least he used to. He just pays her less and less mind along with everything else." He shook his head. "If we keep all our remaining mechs in service, well…that'll be a good problem to have, finding a pilot for Gipsy. If Raleigh's not in condition to pilot, maybe he'd be willing to help out. Y'know, instruct the new ones. Like you did."

"He's physically capable," said Stacker at once. "The difficulty will be the memories he carries into the drift."

Herc raised his eyebrows. "You've been keeping tabs on him all this time?"

Stacker gave Herc a _look._ "He'll only know that if the few whom I've confided in choose to reveal it."

Herc raised his hands in surrender. "I'm not planning on doing it, Stacks." He gave a wry smile. "After all, I've got a few things of my own I'd rather Raleigh not know about if he and I ever meet again."

They both smiled grimly, and a silent accord was reached. If Raleigh Becket were to return to the Jaeger Program in any capacity, there were certain things he didn't need to know. It would be difficult enough for him no matter what, and Stacker and Herc both had enough on their minds to not want to revisit old issues that no longer mattered.

"Beyond that, I'm now trying to determine the new strategy for our dwindling numbers," Stacker went on. He tapped his tablet and handed it to Herc.

"'Operation Pitfall.'" Herc read the summary and frowned. "We've hit the Breach before, with some pretty big ordnance."

"Not with in the hands of a Jaeger." Herc looked up in astonishment. Stacker's expression was grave. "I've never been willing to send any Rangers on a suicide mission, but the risk will be so extreme…this might as well be one. K-Science and K-Watch believe that the increased rate of Breach events may actually provide us with the window to deliver a payload that enters the Breach."

"The timing," Herc murmured. "It'd have to be perfect. After an attack, as soon after as possible. Or if we were to wait, with a team of mechs in an underwater operation, maybe we could…damn." A deep pang of renewed grief hit him. "Vulcan would've been ideal for that. We've all done deep water operations, but none as successful as them. Damn." He looked down at the plan to try and refocus on the matter at hand. "You'd need a large bomb. Something guaranteed to take out the Breach if we could just get it in there, maybe more than one. As many shots as possible. And guards, in case a kaiju does pop out at the wrong moment. If only to distract the fuckers long enough for delivery." He looked at Stacker. "We haven't got that many mechs left. I wish I could say the last few attacks have been flukes and we won't lose that many more…" They both knew where that was going. "It'll have to be soon."

"As soon as Gipsy Danger is ready. The Russians have promised me a sizeable payload. Possibly one large one or two smaller ones, at least a megaton. Colonel Rabinov and Admiral Yamamoto are quietly arranging naval and air support from Russia and Japan. If nothing else, the mission will mean leaving our protection zones entirely defenseless."

"Who would carry the payload? Any volunteers?" Herc asked dryly.

"Zeke and Ilisapie, as well as Bruce and Trevin have already offered."

"Shit."

Stacker sighed and turned away. "We're shorter on options with each engagement, Herc. Their maneuverability underwater is less than many other mechs, but they can move, and even bludgeon their way through obstacles. The Russians and Chinese have volunteered to participate in any capacity we need." He anticipated Herc's next words and held up a hand. "You're to discuss it with your co-pilot before committing, Ranger. Whatever your difficulties, that's a consideration we all owe each other, as long as we're in service."

Herc relented. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right." _So I go back to Sydney and ask my son if he's game to join in an almost-suicide mission._ "Ketteridge?"

Stacker caught the edge in Herc's voice and actually smirked a little. "He knows nothing about it. I'm disclosing it to anyone except those I trust entirely." It went without saying that Stacker knew Herc didn't trust Ketteridge even the smallest bloody bit. Stacker went on, "We have far too many enemies and too much obstruction, even in a mission that would probably mark the true end of the Jaeger Program."

"He won't hear anything from Chuck or me. I'll talk to the kid. I doubt Sydney's going to stay in service much longer. Ketteridge doesn't even give a damn about much these days. I think he's already surrendered. Striker'll have to go somewhere. Hong Kong's as good a place as any."

* * *

_January 8, 2025…  
Sydney Shatterdome…_

Striker was still in repair when Harbinger, Category IV, emerged from the Breach. K-Watch turned out to have given it a brutally prophetic name.

Chrome Brutus and Romeo Blue met him in the Strait of Juan de Fuca and repelled him from Victoria and Vancouver, but the bastard was fast. He gave them the slip and charged straight for Seattle. There was a Wall of Life in progress along the outer coast, but beyond it, Puget Sound and the surrounding cities were defenseless.

Harbinger was ravaging northwest Seattle by the time the Jaegers caught up, and a pitched battle ensued among the high rises and scenic parks. "This is a nightmare," murmured Kyrra as the Sydney personnel watched.

Weather conditions were making it impossible for the Russian or Japanese Jaegers to cross the North Pacific at speed. Hydra Corinthian and Puma Real were on their way from Panama City, but that lift would take nearly a day. Chrome and Romeo were on their own.

At eleven hours, as rough as the fight was for the city, the two Jaegers seemed to be holding their own. No one saw the blow from one of Harbinger's massive tentacles coming – the kaiju might not have even done it on purpose. But it caught Romeo's chest fin with incredible force, and the upper portion of the chest fin failed. The protective metal appendage became a blade, and the impact drove it backwards, straight into the right side of the conn-pod.

From Romeo's comm, there was only a startled shout as metal screamed and internal systems went cold, then the Jaeger was falling.

In Sydney and probably other Shatterdomes, some watchers screamed aloud. Ilisapie Flint screamed as she and Zeke witnessed the blow, and they hurled themselves at Harbinger and drove him back with the full force of Chrome's heavy body, away from their stricken partner.

_"_ _Romeo Blue, come in! Trevin, Bruce, do you copy?!"_ LOCCENT shouted.

There was no sound in the Sydney war room but ragged breathing that grew rougher when the only sound on the line was a dazed whisper: _"Bruce?"_

_"_ _Trevin, come on, talk to me, what's his condition?_ "

Indra made a strangled noise, and Herc looked over at the LOCCENT readout - and immediately wished he hadn't.

The entire right hemisphere for Romeo Blue no longer had any connection. In Romeo's conn-pod, Bruce Gage was flatlined.

" _Bruce…no…_ "

"Oh God, oh God," someone in Sydney muttered. "This isn't happening."

_Trev knows. He must've felt it. He must be able to see it._ Trevin Gage's vitals showed no damage to his systems and no indicators of injury, but he wasn't answering LOCCENT.

" _Trevin, it's Caitlin, can you hear me? Come on, Trev…Trev!"_

_"_ _Romeo Blue, come in!"_

Fucking Harbinger was still trying to get past Chrome and tear into Romeo again. " _All spotters and command choppers, move in!_ " Pentecost ordered. " _Get him out of there!_ "

"Oh my God!" Indra put his hands helplessly on the holoscreen of the vitals monitors. Trevin had come through the blow that killed his brother, and all his hemisphere systems were working, but now…his vitals fluctuated…then every line on every monitor readout graphs began to fall. "No, no, no, God…"

_"_ _Bogey's still too close, we can't move in!"_

_"_ _This is Lager One; we're gonna try! We're not gonna -_ " The speaker broke off with a scream as debris from the kaiju and Jaeger's ongoing battle among the buildings struck Romeo's support chopper and sent it hurtling to the ground.

" _Can you move in from the ground?"_ Stacker demanded.

_"_ _We're landing three blocks to the south, behind what's left of the Escala. We'll send the strike troopers in on foot!"_

" _Strike teams, you've got to hurry, he's crashing! Trevin's crashing! Chrome, can you get the bogey further away?_ "

With a roar of effort and rage, Ilisapie and Zeke hauled Harbinger off his feet and hurled him bodily through several buildings, then ripped a construction crane free and began stabbing him with it.

" _Okay, we've got clearance, we're moving in!_ "

" _Dammit, Trevin's flatlined, but if you can get to him, you might be able to rescuscitate -"_

_"–_ _no."_ Herc's breath caught. It was Caitlin. " _No. Lager…Stacker, listen…no. Let him go."_

Someone sobbed in the Sydney war room. Herc's palms stung, and he couldn't figure out why until he realized how hard Chuck was clenching his fists. On the comm, Ilisapie and Zeke were still screaming and cursing, but there was a roughness to their voices that said they knew what was happening and what Caitlin meant. Harbinger was down, Blue spurting everywhere, and they still hacked and pounded at the kaiju with everything they could get their hands on.

" _Let him go,_ " Caitlin repeated softly.

After several moments, the call came in: " _Lager, support choppers, this is Marshal Stacker Pentecost. Halt rescue effort until the kaiju is destroyed. There's nothing else to do."_

Someone broke down sobbing hysterically on the comm line in one of the choppers. Chuck shoved away from the table and stormed out of the war room. Herc stayed in his chair and leaned on the table, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. _It was the right call. It was. Let him go. Let them go together._ Someone patted his shoulder, murmuring their sympathies, but he couldn't look up.

Twenty minutes later, LOCCENT declared no signature. It was another ten minutes before Stacker could get Ilisapie and Zeke to stop pounding Harbinger's corpse.

Word got around quickly of what the recovery teams found when they reached the wreckage of Romeo Blue's conn-pod. The broken chest fin had been driven straight into the right side, so hard and fast that Bruce probably never knew what hit him.

There wasn't a mark on Trevin.

* * *

_"_ _Stacks? Hi, it's Sergio."_

_"_ _Sergio, where are you? I didn't see you at the local service for Bruce and Trevin."_

_"_ _No, we're…I'm with Caitlin. At the hospital."_

_"_ _Oh my God, what's happened?"_

_"_ _She…since we lost them, she's just…she collapsed last night. That's why I'm on the civilian line. We're at St. Helen's Psychiatric."_

_"_ _Damn. How is she? Is there anything I can do?"_

_"_ _I don't think so, I just thought you'd want to know."_

_"_ _Thank you, Sergio. Look after her, and look after yourself. Let me worry about…everything else. The two of you have done more than your share."_

_"_ _After she's released, I've just got to get her somewhere away from the media. Away from the news too. She thinks…that all this is her fault. That all she did was build a line of death traps."_

_"_ _It's because of Caitlin that kaiju didn't lay waste to every city on the Pacific Coast twelve years ago. We all knew what we were getting into, even Bruce and Trevin. You know that."_

_"_ _I…try to remind myself that. I'm glad you're still on your feet, Stacks."_

_"_ _I will be as long as there's even one Jaeger moving. And – Sergio, it just occurred to me, when Caitlin's released, I may know just the place for you to go. Vince Gagnon passed away last year, but Mei is still at their old ski lodge in Whistler. I've been in touch with her. She'll welcome you."_

* * *

_January 31, 2025…_

**_Jaeger Program in its Death Throes!_ **

_There's no good news for fans of the Jaeger Program today. The battle against Infernius on the outskirts of Antofagasta, Chile ended with the destruction of Jaeger Amazon Delta, killing both of her pilots, Reynaldo and Isabel Khouri._

_The last year has seen kaiju attacks increase to every two to three weeks, and the damage and death toll mounting with each one. Eight Jaegers have been destroyed since the start of 2024, with nearly all of their pilots dying with them._

_The United Nations has formally announced that the Jaeger Program will sunset in the next six months, with funding and resources now being devoted to the Wall of Life, which will protect every coastal settlement along the Pacific Ocean. U.S. President Jerald Lunk has announced that funding for the American Jaeger Program is being withdrawn effective immediately and re-routed to the Wall of Life. This includes funding of veterans' and survivors' benefits for those PPDC personnel who were injured or killed in the line of duty, prompting massive protests from both proponents and opponents of the Jaeger Program, and lawsuits have been filed._

_Nations such as Argentina, India, and Brazil have already commenced coastal walls of their own, anticipating that it is now only a matter of time until the kaiju escape the Pacific Ocean and begin attacking population centers around the globe._

_Civilians are now advised to relocate at least 300 miles inland to minimize the threat of kaiju attacks until the Wall of Life is complete. Australia is now the first country to declare its Wall complete and unbreachable, and Prime Minister Dunphy announced last week that Sydney Shatterdome will close in the next three months. Its sole remaining Jaeger, Striker Eureka, will be decommissioned, and talks are taking place for transfer of the Jaeger to Hong Kong. China is the only nation that has elected to maintain its Jaeger Program without reliance on a coastal Wall of Life, though the country is under increasing international pressure amid fears that Chinese population centers will be the "weak point" in the coastal defenses of all of Asia._

* * *

With a move to Hong Kong only a matter of time, Herc and Chuck considered Operation Pitfall. _It's the highest-risk operation we've ever planned,_ Herc told him in the drift, not daring to even discuss it aloud in Sydney.

Chuck pondered the plan in his father's memory. _Some events are only eleven days apart. Last one was twenty-two days from the previous one. Shit. They'll need guards. Either we go right after the Breach opens and leave a few in reserve to deal with whoever comes out, or we wait there when it's forecast to open. If we want it the most open it can be for the delivery, we'll have kaiju to deal with either way._

_Exactly._

The kid mulled over it, for once in a half receptive mood –

Chuck glared at Herc. _Not my fault you're getting too old for this._

Herc sighed. The kid rolled his eyes. _Eyes on the job. What do you think? I need to give Pentecost an answer._

_They'll need us to do something. Either stay ashore and wait for the kaiju to attack, or on guard duty. They'll need some competent Rangers. What've Danny and Evie said?_

_No idea. Romeo's down, but Chrome is still offering to carry the bomb – and if you even_ think _Bruce and Trevin weren't competent, kid, god help me…_

_Get a grip, old man._ But Chuck's bitterness seethed through the drift. No, he wouldn't go as far as calling Bruce and Trevin incompetent, but he was mad. It shouldn't have happened. They should've been able to stop it. Why hadn't they seen it coming? Somebody'd fucked up, either in maintaining Romeo's fin or in keeping Bruce and Trevin's attention on the fight –

_Hey! You want to focus on the bloody issue?_

Chuck scoffed. _It makes no difference to me, old man. Tell Pentecost we can do whatever he needs, guard duty on shore or underwater. Just hope his plan involves a team of whoever's the best, out of whoever's still alive._

* * *

_February 17, 2025…_

The entire Jaeger Program deployed in pursuit of Nocnitsa, which headed northwest but disappeared off the grid, since so few nations were bothering to maintain their network of sonar detectors and spectrometer buoys anymore.

Marshals Pentecost and Quijano sent their mechs out in pairs, but the rest scattered in loose lines in front of the population centers.

Chuck and Herc wound up backing up Butterfly Sword in Taipei, but the bogey finally turned up off Wakkanai, Japan.

Tacit Ronin made the intercept with Cherno Alpha in hot pursuit. Herc and Chuck didn't think there was anything to worry about. Danny and Evie had eight kills to their name. Danny and Evie could hold their own.

They didn't.

Nocnitsa pressed them back and back against the city, which hadn't even started working on its coastal wall yet, and the drift erupted in rage and anguish and disbelief when Danny Oliver and Evie Nakano's shouts gave way to screams, and Tacit Ronin fell.

By the time Cherno Alpha got there, it was long since over. Ronin had injured the kaiju, and Cherno only needed another hour to finish it, but there was nothing for the support choppers to do but move in and recover Danny and Evie's bodies.

Vibby Alpha didn't pick Herc and Chuck up from Striker after no signature was declared. Neither of them had to ask why.

Chuck didn't say a word on the flight back to Sydney.

When they arrived, Chuck exploded with a wordless roar and began slamming his fist into the metal cabinets along the walls outside the drivesuit room. "Jesus! Chuck! Hey, kid, hey, whoa!" Crew swarmed in to tackle him, but he fought them.

_"_ _GOD FUCKING DAMMIT, THE FUCKING IDIOTS! WHAT THE FUCK IS THE MATTER WITH THEM ALL! WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T THEY BLOCK IT!_ "

Indra bolted from the scene, Herc suspected, to make sure Greg was nowhere in earshot. "Get a fucking grip on yourself!" Herc yelled at Chuck. "For Chrissakes, kid!"

"Get off me! GET OFF!" Chuck's voice sounded exactly the same as his mind through the ghost drift. _Volunteer for the mission, it doesn't matter, let's go to the Breach, fuck it all! It doesn't matter! I don't care! It's just a fucking slaughter anyway! Let's carry the bomb! Goddammit! Morons! Every bloody one of us're morons!_

_SHUT UP!_ Herc shook him and came closer to belting the kid than he'd done in years, but Kyrra caught his arm.

"NO, Herc!"

Dr. Dahari rushed in and bellowed, "All right, both of you, conference room! Right now!"

" _Go to hell!_ " Chuck shook Herc and Kyrra off and sneered at Dahari. "What're you gonna do, fire me? We're running out of Jaegers 'n pilots, 'n it's over anyway, we don't need this stupid useless shit! Forget it!" He shoved Herc away when Herc tried to pull his arm. "Fuck the headshrinking, there's no bloody point! I'm not doing it anymore! Just gonna go out next time and smash more shit and kill 'em till we all get dead! Don't bother pretending there's anything else about it!"

He shoved several of the crew out of the way, knocking them into the walls as he stormed out.

Herc looked at Dahari, and saw it in her eyes. _The kid's full of shit and out of control…but he's not really wrong, is he?_

Well, one Hansen might as well hang onto the last shreds of reason in the Jaeger Program. "I'll go."

He and Dahari drifted into their usual meeting room, trying not to notice the crew who were fighting tears for Danny Oliver or fuming at Chuck Hansen. It was one bloody awkward psych conference. Dahari got a message on her tablet and winced. "Greg Oliver has resigned as a command chopper pilot."

Herc's heart sank. "Oh, hell, did he hear any of that?"

"No," she reassured him. "He'd already informed Marshal Ketteridge before Vibby Alpha returned to base. His wife and daughter are…not very well. They're going to move inland."

"Have they gone?" _I need to see him. Tell him…something…my kid's alive and his kid is dead, his kid was a better man than…_ "I gotta talk to him, apologize…" _Apologize to the entire bloody crew._

"Herc. Chuck is grieving. Grief and anger go hand-in-hand. So do anger and fear. I know it's not an excuse for the things he's begun to say, but there is an explanation other than lack of moral fibre or bad character. _Or_ bad upbringing. You've both lost dozens of friends and colleagues, and what we're all witnessing…" Dr. Dahari looked helpless, for the first time that Herc could ever recall. "I don't know if there's any guideline or technique on how to cope with it, or if there is a healthy way."

Herc rubbed his eyes. They were dry, nor urge to break like so many previous engagements. He ought to at least feel guilty for not shedding a tear for Greg's son. Now he just felt empty. All that was left for him was duty. He stood up. "I guess the kid's right about one thing. This part is getting a bit pointless." Dahari sighed, but didn't disagree. "Even so, I appreciate all you've tried to do for us. And you're right about one thing: there's no excuse."

Dahari eyed him. "Denial is a stage of grief too, Ranger."

_Denial of what? That my kid is a callous ass?_ He almost asked her, then decided against it. He just didn't have the energy to figure out what anything meant anymore.

_Maybe Chuck is right about the main point: There's no point to any of this anymore._

* * *

_March 2025…  
Hong Kong Shatterdome…_

March saw the destruction of Bering Tigress and Hydra Corinthian. Katya and Yelena Pevelina were killed, but Stephanie Lanphier and Kennedy LaRue survived, though Kennedy suffered spinal trauma that would probably leave her paralyzed.

Stacker watched video of the wounded Rangers reuniting with their families and stared at the pilot candidate list for Gipsy Danger. Mako and her team were working hard. Gipsy would probably be ready by the end of July…if there were any other Jaegers remaining to carry out Operation Pitfall. Herc and Chuck Hansen had volunteered, and the Kaidanovskys, grieving and angry over the deaths of the Pevelina cousins, had promised a two megaton bomb for the attack that could be carried on a Jaeger's back.

_These past years have seen the destruction of so many families. How many more do I destroy making our last stand?_

What choice was there? What choices remained for anyone anywhere on Earth?

Stacker typed in Raleigh Becket's name to the candidate list so that Mako could begin studying his techniques, then went a step further and moved it to the top of the list. They would need an experienced pilot if at all possible.

He wondered if this was what it felt like to sign one's name into the Devil's book when selling a soul.

_Forgive me, Yancy. I tried to keep my promise. I tried to protect him._

With that done, Stacker sent a message to Paul Terrence. There was no point in trying to protect anyone any longer.

* * *

_June 14, 2025…_

Chrome Brutus, Butterfly Sword, and Shaolin Rogue all went down in May. None of the pilots survived.

China's fleet was down to two Jaegers. Xichi Po and Lo Hin Shen told Chuck and Herc that the death toll of the past year was destroying the Wei triplets. They'd been very close to Shaolin Rogue's Fei-Yen Wang and Huan Che in particular, especially after Jing and Min Li had been killed in Manila in 2019.

In June, Horizon Brave, Striker Eureka, and Crimson Typhoon deployed against Forneus outside Kaohsiung City, Taiwan, and in what seemed like a miracle, all three Jaegers came out intact.

"Jesus, I'd forgotten what it felt like to have a fight without losing anybody," Chuck muttered.

With attacks coming so close together, there wasn't time for more than an evening to hang out in Hong Kong with a quick celebratory drink. Well, "celebratory" was a relative term. They were all dealing with far too many dead friends to really feel good, but knowing they'd all come through alive was…well, not a bad feeling.

Xichi, Lo Hin, and Chuck all did a shot and sparred against each other, just for old time's sake, and Herc actually felt something resembling peace as he and the triplets waited their turn and yelled obnoxious commentary. The triplets, Xichi, and Lo Hin gave Chuck a basketball primer and decided they'd form a league once the remaining Jaegers relocated to Hong Kong.

With Striker due to be decommissioned in six weeks, there would only be a few engagements before the move to Hong Kong.

* * *

_June 23, 2025…_

Only nine days later, Horizon Brave made her last kill in Lima. The kaiju, codename Cerberus, took out Diablo Intercept with no survivors in a pitched battle that smashed through the remains of Lima Shatterdome and the majority of the city center. Horizon sustained massive damage, but Xichi and Lo Hin refused to yield, and they made the kill even as their reactor began to melt down.

One of their chopper crews sustained massive radiation exposure to rescue the pilots, to no avail. Xichi and Lo Hin died along with all of the strike troopers who'd been on site within twenty-four hours.

* * *

_July 2025…_

In July, Puma Real, Echo Saber, and Eden Assassin went down, though most of the pilots survived. Word got around that Carlos and Jordana Chen had both been diagnosed with cancer, and rumor even had it that they'd been diagnosed months ago, but insisted on continuing to pilot combat missions as long as Puma Real was functional.

With no protectors remaining, Panama City Shatterdome closed. Marshal Quijano railed against her government and the United Nations, calling them cowards and traitors. Her government responded by forcing her into retirement, and she left Panama to join her family in the US.

Ami and Rena Tanaka sustained severe injuries, but they were rescued from the wreckage of Echo Saber and expected to recover. Still, that brought an end to the Japanese Jaeger Program.

Admiral Yamamoto was found dead a few days after the engagement. Some said it was a massive stroke. Rumor had it that it was suicide.

Peter Lepp and Hedy Keres were rescued after the destruction of Eden Assassin, but Pete died of his injuries a week later. There was time for his teenaged daughter, Sofia, to join him in the hospital before the end. As one of their final acts in Russian politics before leaving for Hong Kong, Sasha and Aleksis Kaidanovsky exerted their considerable political influence to ensure that Hedy Keres would retain custody of her stepdaughter.

With that done, Sofia stayed at the hospital with her stepmother, and the Kaidanovskys departed with their Jaeger, and a very sensitive and top-secret cargo.

* * *

_July 23, 2025…  
Sydney Shatterdome…_

After Striker took down Mutavore, Chuck reasoned that in a way, this particular kaiju might have just done humanity a favor.

The world had finally seen just how much – or how little – the so-called Wall of Life was worth to them. Striker Eureka had taken down a Category IV alone, leaping back into combat when they had already been decommissioned and were almost packed up for Hong Kong.

It was Striker's tenth kill. They now had the record. Chuck had every reason to be happy, or, well, at least satisfied and proud.

But as they moved Striker to Hong Kong and made the final preparations for moving the personnel who had managed to hang onto their jobs…what he'd said to the reporters in front of the entire bloody world kept replaying over and over in his mind:

_"_ _Look, they decommissioned the Jaeger Program because of mediocre pilots."_

_"…_ _mediocre pilots…"_

It was that simple…right?

He took Max for a walk and stared out at the breached Wall and tried to think about something else.

Returning to the Dome, Chuck found Indra Hassan waiting for him. For some reason, it made him cringe. Indra's face was almost blank. Then again, they'd all gotten good at numbing themselves over the past year. Maybe it didn't mean anything.

"I'm not going," Indra said. "There's only a budget for a reduced LOCCENT crew, and Tendo Choi's going to be there. He'll handle Striker. It's down to four Jaegers."

Chuck blinked, trying to process that. There was only Striker, Typhoon, and Cherno, and… "Four? Who's the fourth?

"Dunno. Just that one more got restored. Very hush-hush. God knows who'll they'll get to pilot it."

"Oh." Chuck's mind had gone sluggish. "So where…what'll you do?"

"I'm heading back to Brisbane, trying to persuade my father and the rest of the family to move inland." Indra shrugged. "Now that the Wall's proven useless, maybe I can talk them into it. They wanted to stay. You know, to show their support."

It rose up in Chuck's chest like a boiling tide, and he clamped down on it. No Ranger could afford feeling like this anymore, not with attacks coming a week apart. "Okay," he mumbled. Why was he finding it so hard to meet Indra's eyes? "They…y'know, your aunt 'n uncle, they get survivors' benefits. Should be more than enough to get them a place inland." _Maybe old man and I should make you beneficiary of ours._ Now that he thought about it, that wasn't a bad idea. Herc and Chuck had no living family, so maybe it could make it up to Indra for what he'd done.

What he'd… said. "Guess this is goodbye then?" Chuck said.

Indra held out a small box to him. Chuck recognized it; it was Devi and Susanti's magnetic chess set. They'd played a lot of games on it in the Dome, and even more remotely during alerts and on long deployments…so many games… this set had turned up after Chuck made pilot.

"This is for you," said Indra steadily. "Family heirloom, I guess you could say. There'll be people who play in Hong Kong. They'd want you to have it."

There was nothing to do but take it. Chuck stared at it rather than look at Indra. "Look after yourself, mate." Why was it so hard to talk?

Indra put a hand on Chuck's head. "You too, boyo."

He left, and Chuck stood there in an empty corridor with Devi and Susanti's chess set in his hands and fought not to sink to the ground, or run after Indra and call out:

_Wait…wait, Indra, wait…I'm sorry. Please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry._

_What I said in Sydney, please, I didn't mean it! I swear, I didn't mean it!_

_**To Be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Coming Soon:** _ _Chuck and Herc arrive in Hong Kong to join the last remaining pilots and prepare for the Jaeger Program's last stand, and Chuck learns just who will be joining in Operation Pitfall as we come full circle for the_ _**Epilogue: The Prodigal Son!** _
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**
> 
> _**Original Character Note**_ : This chapter includes almost every original character already introduced in the series, so I'm not going to name and describe them all here. Feel free to ask in a message or review if there's someone you're confused about - I know that's a lot of OCs. HOWEVER... there is one new OC, Jerald Lunk, based on a certain Real World lowlife, who I shall not name, but his growing reign of destruction has had me thinking that he's just the sort who would undermine the Jaeger Program for political gain. And since 2024 would have been a US election year, I ran with it.


	48. The Prodigal Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck and Herc arrive in Hong Kong to join the last remaining pilots and prepare for the Jaeger Program's last stand, and Chuck learns just who will be joining in Operation Pitfall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Notes:** Dear readers, my apologies again for the long wait you've endured for the end of this story. Finishing this fic coincided with a very rough time in Real Life, and for a while, I was having a lot of trouble even editing it. The Generation K series finale, Character  & Fitness, will follow in a few months, I'm bound and determined, and there will be at least one more chapter of Tales From The Front Lines. Thank you all a thousand times over for all your feedback over these past two years (no joke, do you realize I started posting this fic right after Christmas 2014?!) This fandom has gotten me through the three worst years of my life, so along with the Great Guillermo Del Toro's storytelling, I thank all of you._

**Epilogue: The Prodigal Son**

_July 25, 2025…  
Hong Kong Shatterdome…_

The fourth Jaeger for Operation Pitfall was Gipsy Danger. When Herc and Chuck arrived at Hong Kong Shatterdome, Tendo met them and said Marshal Pentecost was on his way back with the pilot they'd re-enlisted.

And then, Chuck  _knew._ He felt the jolt of realization through his old man, followed by anxiety, embarrassment, and even…regret. Regret at things that might have been but hadn't been and wondering if maybe it would've ended differently.

Some things never changed. Ten kills, and Chuck still wasn't good enough for his old man.

_With the way you act, do you really expect to be?_

The pathetic part was that Chuck couldn't be sure if that thought was coming through the ghost drift from Herc or just inside his own mind.

Chuck wanted to skip the reunions altogether and go straight to the simulator, but of course, his old man refused. Besides, the prospective co-pilots queueing up around the block to ride with the great Raleigh Becket were keeping the simulator tied up. So Chuck surrendered to the inevitable and waited with his old man.

"Chuck! Herc! Gentlemen, welcome to Hong Kong!" Pentecost's bellow rang through the chaos and noise of the Jaeger bays.

And there he was. Raleigh motherfucking Becket, swaggering back into the Shatterdome after five years hiding while good Rangers kept fighting and dying.

_"…_ _mediocre pilots…_ "

"Wait here," Herc muttered, and Chuck was all too happy to follow  _that_ order. Max went galumphing along with Herc to drool all over the Mori girl – she adored him and he adored her – and Chuck just watched.

The spectacle of dissembling that followed was almost enough to make Chuck laugh out loud. "Raleigh, this is Hercules Hansen, an old friend from the Mark-1 glory days," Pentecost blustered.

Herc shook Becket's hand and plowed through reintroduction in a rush: "I know you, mate, we rode together before."

To Herc (and Chuck's) intense relief, Becket wasn't interested in going into details about their previous meetings either. "We did, sir, six years ago, my brother and I; it was a three-Jaeger team drop."

"That's right, Manila." Herc stepped closer, lowering his voice. "'m sorry about your brother."

"Thank you, sir." Becket answered him steadily. There was a  _look_ about him then that was familiar, but Chuck couldn't place it – Herc did, and through the ghost drift, Chuck saw. It was the same look that was now in Pentecost's eyes, and before him, Duc Jessop's: a Ranger without his partner.

And there was Herc, all full of sympathy, as if Becket was the only bloke in the Jaeger Program who'd lost someone. Well, Chuck knew his job in this mission, and he had two good Jaegers whose pilots had actually kept their shit together to watch his back. If Becket and Pentecost couldn't pull together the old Mark-3 rust bucket in time, it was no skin of Chuck's nose. He wouldn't wait around for the has-been to keep up.

Herc's disgust and shame flashed through the ghost drift, and Chuck pulled away, trying to shut him out. That was useless, of course. As useless as trying not to see Devi and Susanti Hassans' faces, and remembering their voices on the comm, that last day.

_"_ _And Raleigh, if you ever see him, tell him we love him."_

Had Tendo told Becket that yet?

_They loved him. Well, of course they bloody loved him, everyone in the Corps loves_ him.  _He ran out on us all, and they still loved him. All anyone could talk about was him. Even my old man would rather have had him._

Chuck's old man might be kissing up to Becket, but Chuck wasn't going to. He called Max back as Pentecost explained the plan – though Becket was evidently too dense to figure it all out.

_But they loved him._

He rubbed Max down and glanced at the boxes on the cart next to him from Sydney…his gaze fell on Devi and Susanti's chess set. He could've gone with Herc and Pentecost for the meeting with K-Science, but he sat there and stared at it like it would have all the answers.

Maybe it did.

Or maybe he already knew.

_She loved him. Not Becket. Not either Becket. They were her friends, and she loved them, but…she_ loved _my dad._

He'd known that, deep down. He'd never even managed to admit it in a conscious thought; why the hell was it sinking in now? He had other things to worry about, for Chrissakes.

But it was there, as if the chess set carried it, and he couldn't stop thinking it.  _Devi. She loved me. But she_ loved _my dad, and I knew it. It wasn't even that I was jealous. I knew she'd always love me even if she got together with my dad. It didn't matter. I just knew she wouldn't…act on it, not unless I was okay with it. I liked that. I liked that she'd put me ahead of him. I liked that he knew she would. Someone would chose me. So I made her choose._

_I didn't care whether it hurt her or not. I loved her and she loved me, and she could've been my…but I didn't want her to love my dad, not like that. So I didn't let her._

Susanti had known. She'd had Chuck's number from the beginning. That was probably why sometimes he'd thought she didn't like him. Well, what was there to like? She'd known what Chuck Hansen was, and even in Hawaii, she'd known what he was doing to her sister. She'd probably known why. At least she must've realized how little Devi's feelings had actually mattered in the face of Chuck's need to stick it to his old man, even then. What a petty, vindictive little shit he'd been, and Suze had always known it.

She'd loved Chuck anyway. They'd both said it, at the end. He should've said it back to them.

_Guess it's just as well you can't see me now. All that hope you pinned on me and look what it came out to. Ten kills, and I still didn't live up to it._

_"_ _Look, they decommissioned the Jaeger Program because of mediocre pilots."_

_I didn't mean it. I swear, I didn't mean it._

Since when was it a sign of merit that somebody as spiteful and crass as Chuck Hansen was alive when good people were dead? Everyone who'd ever been worthy of humanity's hope was dead, dying, or crippled. Everyone who'd ever deserved Devi and Susanti's love – well, most of them were dead. With luck, Indra would talk his aunt and uncle into moving, in case Pitfall failed.

_I can kill kaiju, but I didn't manage to save anybody. All I did was spit in the faces of everyone who's left._

Devi and Susanti would've been so glad to see Raleigh Becket come back. All Chuck wanted to do was spit in his face. It only made the desire stronger to remember that they'd loved him.  _You don't deserve that any more than I do, not after you ran. Ironic, you and me being here at the end. My old man would've rather had you. I bet he'd still rather have you. He and the world got stuck with me._

All Chuck could do now was carry a bomb in a last-gasp effort that nobody else in the world knew or cared about. Whether Becket managed to get a co-pilot for that rust bucket didn't make any difference. Chuck knew his job. He knew what he was actually good for.

_Maybe by blowing myself up in the Breach, I can manage to make it up to you all._

**~Fin~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _And so ends my prehistory of the Jaeger Program! I'm sorry this was such a downer ending (another reason I held off on posting it), but remember, there's healing to be had from Conflict of Interest, and all loose threads will be tied up in Character and Fitness. Thank you all again for your wonderful feedback and commentary and theories over this long, long journey!_
> 
> _A small teaser for **Generation K: Character and Fitness** : this fic will assume that the war is entirely over - I'll let the real writers decide where to go with their sequel. HOWEVER...I am retconning Jake Pentecost into existence. I waffled on it, but ultimately could not resist. His history will be posted shortly in Tales From The Front Lines!_
> 
>  
> 
> **PLEASE don't forget to review!**


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